


with me, always

by with_me_always



Category: Figure Skating RPF, tessa virtue/scott moir - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2015-01-15
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 203,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2828789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/with_me_always/pseuds/with_me_always
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of two retired Olympic Ice Dancers starting the next stage of their lives, fighting the inevitable and ignoring the obvious, even when their world is falling part around them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don’t have a night of angst-ridden confessions or drunken mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before starting this, be aware it is book-sized and you won't finish it in one sitting. Also, there are two sections and an epilogue left. 
> 
> I operate under the same name on tumblr, which is where I've transferred this from. It is linked in my profile. I will almost always update there first and here later.

.::..::.::.

They don’t have a night of angst-ridden confessions or drunken mistakes. They don’t have an awful argument over something petty or incredibly important. They don’t go their separate ways, never to see each other again. They’re friends, what they’ve always claimed to be. Once they get home they take a much needed rest. They catch up on sleep and back-filled PVRs and friends and nights out.

Sure, Scott gets drunk on the weekends and acts stupid too frequently and she spends way too much money shopping. But they’re young and just now getting to fully experience the banalities and luxuries of young adulthood that their peers have long since deemed common place. Their friends and family know how to keep their heads on straight, and when it’s needed, a reality check is swiftly made.

Scott’s buddies grill him and ask how much he’s scored since his breakup. He typically gives them a wicked smirk and takes a pull from his beer, leaving them guessing. He’s certainly not hurting for attention, that’s for sure. On occasion, the brave ones even ask about his partner and what’s going on there. A flash frown precedes when Scott always shakes his head and says, “Nope. She’s not my type. Just friends.”

When Tessa goes out, it’s typically with one or two girlfriends and much more low-key. Her friends are less inquisitive, if only because they already know she won’t say anything. A new acquaintance asks about her relationship with Scott — Tessa simply shrugs at the inquiry and gives a sorry not sorry kind of response.

They go to hockey games and social functions, give interviews and discuss what’s next. They provide non-answers and smiling contradictions while looking like the gorgeous Olympians they are. They take pictures and rub elbows with Canada’s finest, then hop back on the plane or train or load into Scott’s car (he never let’s Tessa drive) and head home. They travel all over the country — Montreal, Vancouver, Toronto, Calgary.

Closer to July they prep for China, call up Jeff Buttle for some help with choreography. Though his trip is brief as he has his own show to prepare for, it’s packed with creativity and fun, leaving Tessa and Scott re-energized for their time abroad. The trip is fun, not as fun as Stars on Ice, but they make the most of it and enjoy the time together, doing what they love. If one or the other sometimes holds on too long or stares too intently, neither one says a thing, just ignores the sense of missed opportunities as they continue on. And maybe sometimes he sits too close on the bus, the length of his leg pressed against hers; or maybe sometimes she drinks too much wine at dinner and laughs to loud when he cracks a joke. But that’s okay. It’s what they do.

Once they return, they see each other, not as often, but it’s just like always: same story, different day — he acts like a goofball, she laughs; she says something, he grins. Their silences are no longer dominated by pre-Olympic tension and mercurial moods, just simple ebbs and flows in conversation.

One afternoon after they’ve finished skating for the day, they’re sitting at a local hole in the wall - the one they always frequent. They’ve ordered food and are waiting for it to arrive. Scott is chewing on his straw absently as Tessa plays with the edge of her spoon, both are deep in thought.

"I think it’s a good idea," Tessa offers, leaning forward to sip her water. "We could offer lessons twice a month, and have free rink time? Win-win."

"So you like it?" Scott asks, gentle inflection in his voice belying how much he valued her opinion of his sometimes crazy ideas. "It would also give us a chance to find anyone that stands out."

"Incognito scouting?" Tessa smirks at him. "I like it. Yeah, let’s do it. It’ll be rough once school resumes, but I think I can hack it."

"Yeah, I thought about that too. I mean… if we have to dial it back, we can. No big deal."

Tessa shakes her head. “I’d rather forgo sleep. Let’s talk to the rink manager tomorrow.”

"Deal." Scott holds out his hand and Tessa slaps it in a a practiced fashion, a secret handshake that has morphed over the years.

Their food arrives and as they dig in, Tessa changes topics. “You decide what you’re going to do in the Fall yet?”

Scott takes a giant bite and nods his head. Once he swallows, he glances up and sees the expectant look on her face. “All in due time, Kiddo. You’ll know soon enough.”

Tessa frowns. For as much as he hates surprises, he sure does love springing them on other people.

A couple days later, the pair comes to an agreement with the rink that in exchange for free rink time, they’ll offer free lessons twice a month. Of course, the rink gets the better end of the deal.

Their first day is so popular that they have to offer multiple sessions to handle all the students. It becomes routine that when they leave for the day, they’ll grab dinner and discuss their lesson plans and laugh at did you see that… and how can you be so clumsy yet so graceful? It’s both gratifying and comforting, sharing the ice and their passion with a younger generation. They discuss roping in Chiddy and others to guest teach in hopes of bringing out more of the singles skaters.

Sure, after school starts, Tessa gets busy, but they knew that would happen. There is still a brand to capitalize off of, and an intrinsic desire to skate together, always together. Their lessons remain, often a highlight of their weeks. They dance around the topic of possibly expanding that area of their lives once Tessa graduates. But nothing concrete. They still text, not daily, but often enough that their conversation is always fluid — no hellos or goodbyes.

Scott, true to form, dives in head first to about 70 different activities. So busy that he doesn’t allow himself a chance to think about what he’s missing. He gets a rescue dog, part retriever-part husky as earnest as her new owner, and names her Norma Jean (no one in his family could agree on a name and his mom has Elton John playing on the radio in the kitchen). She follows him around everywhere and whines when he doesn’t let her into the bathroom. He joins the local hockey team, takes cooking classes, and most importantly starts fire-fighter training in London where his chances of going career are higher. He sleeps occasionally, but he can do that when he gets old.

Tessa plows into her last year of school, devoting hours to studying in a corner coffee shop with stacks of notecards and her hair in a messy bun. Per usual she’s ignorant of the dusty-haired guy with a crooked smile from her abnormal psych class working the counter, casting surreptitious looks her way. As part of a work-study program, she works occasional nights and weekends at the library, the quiet and solitude a welcome change to her usual grind. She resumes ballet and yoga, takes up hip-hop because why not?

Their agent contacts her one afternoon in September saying that one of the women’s sports and fitness magazines wants her for a photo shoot. Before the words ‘paid trip to Malibu and free workout clothes’ are out of his mouth, she’s sold. It opens the door to other avenues that she vaguely considered before, but she says ‘yes’ before she can talk herself out of it.

Scott’s buddies text him obnoxiously when she ends up on the cover of the magazine, doing some insane yoga pose with the Pacific Ocean in the background. Even when he sends back his typical vulgar response he drives to the nearest grocery store to buy a copy. For science. Obviously.

In late-September Scott gets a call from a buddy at CBC asking if he wants to be a guest-host a few sports shows. He agrees immediately because this seems like a cake walk - getting paid to be passionate about sports? Yes, please. Tessa never misses an appearance when he’s on TV, one part to make sure the outfit she chose for him looks good on camera (he skypes with her beforehand, trying on different shirts and ties, getting increasingly exasperated until she gives a weak-ass wolf whistle and claps in delight at a combo that works), and one part because she misses his face. His wit and charisma make him a perfect fit, delivering one-liners, quips, and comebacks like a pro. Of course he is asked back for more. He has his sights set on Hockey Night, but that’s a five-year goal.

On a remarkably blistery October afternoon after leaving the TV station in Toronto, Scott steps on the train and takes a seat near the window. He’s texting the leggy blonde sports analyst who slipped her number into his coat pocket and gave him a wink with a lingering kiss on the cheek. She’s witty and their banter is light and flirtatious.

Scott dates often, but after all his earlier relationships that became intense so rapidly, he’s decided to enjoy surveying the scene. When he dates, he catches himself comparing the current woman to previous girlfriends, but not Tessa. Never Tessa. He doesn’t think about why he does that, except to acknowledge that comparing them to Tessa would indicate he’s thought about her as other than a friend and partner. Which is dangerous territory for numerous reasons. Still, he’s not sure dating is for him, but he’s too young to settle and when he meets the future Mrs. Moir he wants to be sure she’s the right fit. Or so he keeps telling himself.

When the train pulls out of the station, he casts a glance outside and raises his eyebrows at what he sees. On a giant wall-sized ad is a remarkably attractive brunette posing in a long gold dress photoshopped to make it look as though it melts into a floor of gold, pooling at her feet. A long leg on impossibly tall stilettos sticks out through the thigh-high slit of the dress, her skin glows, her hair is all large curls and shine, and her eyes are that clear green that still transfixes him when he lets himself sit still long enough. Her smile is what gets him though, a hint of mischief and mystery. He knows how much trouble that particular smile has gotten him into. Flawless. Before he can snap a picture with his phone, the billboard is gone, but her image is seared to his brain. The leggy blonde texts him back, but he ignores it, choosing to text Tessa instead.

So… did they let you keep that gold dress? Or was that just for the photo shoot? Wowza.

They spend the rest of his train ride texting. When he lies in bed that night, he feels a warmth in his chest that radiates to his toes. He doesn’t ponder much why, just remembers the image of Tessa and that wicked smile, and he grins to himself.

Then Norma Jean hops on his bed and farts in his face. So much for a good night’s sleep.

.::.::.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This will be a multi-part fic taking a semi-plausible look at their future. Part of it will be completely feasible. Part of it, less so. You’ll know when you get there. Thanks for reading.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She doesn’t know why she’s talking to him, he won’t remember this in the morning and even if he did, he’ll act like it didn’t happen.

  
.::..::..::.

On occasion, they meet up when it’s not a Saturday. Sometimes it’s a family event, sometimes a rare mutual friend is having a gathering. This night is the latter. Scott offers to drive because he’s in her neck of the woods and can’t see why she should drive when it’s not a hassle. He parks out front of her place and knocks, waiting a few moments for her to open the front door.

He’s been to her new apartment a few times, but never for an extended period. When she lets him in, she’s only partially ready and talking on the phone, mouthing ‘sorry’ and rolling her eyes at whoever is talking on the other end. Based on the phone conversation it sounds like whoever is on the other line got dumped and is crying and he can’t help but laugh because for as sensitive as Tessa can be, she does not do tears well. She reaches a certain point where the other person needs to suck it up and get over it. You don’t become an Olympian by wallowing in self-pity. Grinning, he shuts the door behind him and follows where she points into the living room for him to take a seat.

Scott chooses to look around, wanting to get a better feel for her place. Matted black and white photos line the walls, dark wood, light furniture with bright accent pillows and soft touches that scream Tessa are all over the place. It’s very classy and understated. Her coffee table is littered with notes and books and what looks to be a very detailed revised draft of a paper. He catches sight of a couple pamphlets beside a notebook that have the names of several universities, and he can’t help but be curious where they are and what it all means.

Straightening, he spots a picture of the both of them among many family photos on her bookcase. It’s not one from when they were skating, they’re actually at another event and he’s got his arm wrapped around her and they’re both laughing, her head tossed back while he’s leaning forward and looking back at her. He feels like he’s spent half his life looking at her. Before he can draw closer, Tessa emerges from her room looking beautiful as per usual and mildly irritated.

"You look nice," Scott says quickly because he knows she’s about to go on a rant. She beams at him brightly, handing him her coat so she can slide into it.

"Thanks. You look good too. I like that color."

"I know." He’s not wearing anything special, but for some odd reason he chose this particular button-up, just to see what she’d say. As predicted, his clothing selection is what she prefers, something he takes an odd sense of pleasure in knowing. Not that he’d ever admit it.

"Yeah, yeah," she sighs knowingly, preoccupied. He waits for her to lock the front door then starts walking to the car. "So I need your perspective for a moment. When a guy says, ‘I need space’ that’s really code for: ‘this is my attempt at screwing around with someone else without having to break up completely because I like what we have, but don’t want to miss out on anything’ right?"

"Uhhh, slow down there." Scott unlocks the doors and takes a moment to process while she gets buckled in. "Is she clingy?"

"Mmm, a little bit. She’s a beautiful girl, smart, funny. I’m not quite sure why else he’d want a break unless he just wants to get laid by someone that isn’t her."

"Maybe she steals food off his plate, maybe she bugs him during hockey games, maybe she’s the jealous type, maybe she’s awful in bed. Point is, you’re never gonna know unless you get both sides of the story."

He hopes his wisdom is enough until she turns at him, her eyebrows raised expectantly. “I guess we’re in luck then because Brian’s going to be there tonight.”

"Oh no."

Her grin is entirely diabolical. “Oh yes.”

"Tessaaaaaaa," Scott intones, not liking where this is going. "Remember last time you tried to matchmake? It did NOT end well."

Huffing from her passenger seat, Tessa crosses her arms petulantly. “First off, it worked out fine. They got married. didn’t they!?!”

Scott gives her a side-eye and shakes his head. “Through no help from you. This was after you’d bombed the entire situation and they met up a month later at a funeral or something.”

"It was a play, and you’re exaggerating."

"Am I? He thought YOU were in love with him, instead of her!"

"Well, that was a minor issue and I cleared that up quickly."

"He still can’t look you in the eyes."

"I don’t see why, it’s not like he did anything wrong."

"Except make a jackass out of himself. Don’t mess with a man’s pride. This is a bad idea." Scott sighs as they turn on the main road heading to their location. Tessa is silent which indicates plotting or pouting. He was going for the former.

"Okay fine. If you’re going to do this I might as well keep my eye on you to keep it from getting out of hand."

She smiles wide and claps her hands. “Excellent. So here’s the plan…”

.::.

Scott is currently seeing three of everyone. How’d that happen so fast? “How am I already dru-hiccup-drunk?”

The guy hosting the party, Paul Murphy, gives him a bleary smile and starts laughing. “I told you my homebrew beer was potent, Scotty. Pooooooteeeeentttttt.”

"Yeah but, I had like, two." Scott holds up his fingers, trying to put up two but three keep appearing. He thinks.

"No bro, you had a sample of the weaksauce sissy crap," says Brian, the guy Scott is supposed to be creeping on. The guy is a grade-A douchebag, so he thinks Tessa’s friend is better off. "You had a full pint from the keg. Alcohol content is 12.4%."

"Well… Shit." Scott sighs. He killed that pint way too rapidly. "Got any water? I wasn’t planning on getting wasted tonight."

"Sure," Paul tosses him a bottle which Scott promptly misses by a mile. "Moir, it’s a good thing you didn’t try goal tending. I hope you don’t treat your partner like that."

"Hot damn, that’s where I know you from," says the douchebag, "You’re that figure skater. With the hot chick."

Scott has this conversation somewhat frequently and it rarely ends well. Especially when he’s intoxicated. Definitely when Tessa is referred to as a hot chick. “Yup. That’s me.”

"Hey, what’s your name, man?" The douchebag holds up his hand to shake, but Scott really really doesn’t want to. Still, he shakes, hoping the idiot keeps his mouth shut.

"Scott." He grips his water tightly.

"I’m Brian, good job on winning…" He has no idea.

Raising his eyebrows expectantly and giving a curt nod, Scott turns to Paul who is watching the two closely. Changing topics, Scott leans forward, “You still got that lake house, Paul?”

"Yeah I do, it needs a little work but —" Paul starts, but is cut off by the douchebag.

"Yo- is uh, your partner," Scott looks up and follows the douchebag’s line of sight to Tessa, who is talking to a small group on the other side of the room. When she laughs he feels his heart catch in a familiar way and drunkenly thinks he should get it checked out. "Is she single?"

"No idea." Scott clenches his jaw and tightens his fist.

"What, she never let you tap that? Is she an ice queen?" The douchebag keeps talking, staring at Tessa, while Scott is sliding his chair back, and cracking his neck and fingers. "I mean, she’s hot. I bet she’s crazy in the sack. Like —"

"Brian, shut the fuck up," Paul interjects, placing a hand on Scott’s shoulder. "Tessa is my friend, not only that, she’s not that kinda girl. If you came here just to hook up, then you better leave, because I am friends with all these people. Besides, I’m not responsible for anything Scotty does to you."

The douchebag glances at Scott who’s staring him down, fully prepared to throw a punch.

"Aw, c’mon man. You know I’m just joking," Douchebag frowns as he downs the rest of his beer. He pushes away from the bar and moves to a different location. Scott continues to glare at him until Paul punches him in the shoulder.

"Chill it out, he stopped."

Scott frowns, his buzz having turned sour after dealing with that idiot. “Why do people do that? Just walk up to complete strangers and —”

"Start running their mouth off?"

"Yeah, not cool. This water is weak. Gimme another beer."

"Weaksauce or bigboy?"

"Surprise me," Scott grabs a handful of chips as he glances back at Tessa who is now receiving some one-on-one attention from another guy. She hasn’t given Scott the ‘rescue me' eyes, so he leaves her be for the time being. Turning back to Paul, who just rolls his eyes at Scott and sets another pint in front of him.

"What?"

"You really don’t know if she’s dating anyone?" Paul asks, voice doubtful.

"Nope. We don’t talk about that kinda stuff, it’s easier that way." Scott takes a long sip and sighs. "Mmmm, this is good."

"Secret brew," Paul says as he clinks his glass with Scott’s. "Easier, huh? You two still aren’t…"

Shaking his head, Scott laughs him off. “Nah. She’s… not really my type.” That line, the one he’s been using for years to anyone who isn’t the media, is starting to sound a little hollow. “Besides, we got too much history. Much better as friends. Much.”

Scott misses the way John gives him a sad look because he’s watching Tessa, who has managed to free herself and is now talking with Paul’s girlfriend, Sarah. Paul sighs and takes another sip, following Scott’s line of sight. “If you say so, man. I’ve actually got a friend that she might like: nice guy, super smart, they could hit it off.”

"Sure, go for it." Scott stands slowly, then sits back down. "Damn, I am druuuuuunk. Got any more food?"

Paul smiles and gets the man a pizza.

.::.

"I thought you said you weren’t going to get drunk," Tessa frowns from the driver’s seat as Scott leans his head out the window, letting the breeze his his face.

"Wasn’t planned. Beer. Very strong." Scott burps as he hunkers down in his seat. "Did you try any?"

"Ha. I stopped drinking once I saw you go to the bar. Did you have any luck, by the way?"

"Oh yeah. Big luck. Much success." Scott’s eyes close, then yelps as a small fist wallops him in the bicep. "Gah, what the hell?"

"Stay awake! I am not carrying you inside. I’d rather let you sleep out here."

"K. Fine, fine. Sing me a song then."

"How about you tell me about that guy, Brian."

"He’s a douchebag. Tell your friend to dump his sorry ass. Totally trying to score. He should have gone to Vegas or something."

"Really? I met him. He didn’t seem that bad."

"Tess, trust me. That guy is a tool. An awful human. No good."

She frowns and continues to drive, letting Scott fiddle with the radio the remainder of the way to her apartment. Once she parks and manages to get him inside, he goes directly to the couch instead of her guest bedroom. “You do realize I have an extra bed, right?”

"Nope. Couch. So nice. Fluffy. I like."

"Ah, a two-syllable word. I guess I should be happy. Here," she gives him a bottle of water and a couple motrin. "Drink this, take these. Don’t forget to take off your shoes."

"So good to me, Tessa." Scott does as he’s told while Tessa retrieves him a real pillow and more comfortable blanket. When she returns, she tosses the pillow at Scott, moving his shoes out of the way so he won’t trip in the night.

"It’s a good thing we never dated. Such a good thing."

"Oh yeah?" Tessa rises, brows drawing together at the sudden change in conversation. "Why’s that?"

"We wouldn’t have worked out. I’d have done something stupid or you’d have gotten tired of me and then we’d have a huge fight and then you’d leave and then we wouldn’t skate anymore. We wouldn’t even be friends. So much at stake. Not worth it."

Tessa frowns. Drunk!Scott is normally so much more fun than this. “And why wouldn’t we stay friends?”

"Because… because deep down you’d always wonder why you settled for me, and you’d get resentful after a while and sad." He pulls off his shirt and tosses it on the near chair, lying back on the couch. "And I don’t like it when you’re sad. So we’d get miserable and start saying mean, hurtful things to each other, just to see who would quit first."

"Wow, that’s… awful," she sighs, feeling morose. "Scott, I don’t think that’s how it would go. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’d be the one to get tired of me. You’ve already established that I’m not someone you’d date."

She’s spent the last ten years listening to Scott talk about other girls. About what he likes and doesn’t like. She’s listened to his friends badger him, curious about her. He never says anything in response when she’s around, just shuts down the conversation. Tessa overheard him once or twice though, and both times he’s said that even though they care about each other a great deal, she’s too type A, too much a of a perfectionist, too controlling. Great for skating, awful for relationships. He’s right. She is, unapologetically so. She can’t change that aspect of her personality and Scott would never ask her to.

It doesn’t mean they haven’t thought of the possibility of them together beyond physical entanglements, but both quickly found several reasons not to make it a reality.It’s okay though, she tells herself, they work better this way.

"It doesn’t matter, anyway. We care about each other too much to do something so terrible to each other. Excluding time apart, the worst thing we’ve ever done is tell each other the complete truth; even when it hurt to hear it." She doesn’t know why she’s talking to him, he won’t remember this in the morning and even if he did, he’ll act like it didn’t happen. Still, she continues, pulling the blanket out and covering him.

"And for what it’s worth," she says softly, "I don’t think me or any woman who ends up with you will be settling, because you’re one of the best people I know. You’ve got a great big heart, you’re funny, and you’re intelligent, Scott. But it’s your heart that I love most about you." She presses her hand to his chest as he gives her a lazy smile, causing her to laugh quietly and roll her eyes.

He reaches up and drags a finger along her jaw, tugs a strand of hair near her face, then drops his hand. Then his smile slips into a grimace and he clutches his stomach.

Sighing, Tessa moves out of the way quickly. “I’ll get the trash can. If you get vomit on anything in here, you’re replacing it Scott Moir.”

"Aye aye, Captain," Scott grunts as he turns on his side. "Night Tess."

She flicks off the light and heads to her room, keeping the door cracked so she can hear if he needs anything in the night.

Over breakfast at a greasy spoon the next morning, he mentions nothing of their conversation and she assumes he doesn’t remember a thing.

Except he does. Every word.  
.::.::.::.


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not what he’s saying that matters right now, it’s what he’s holding back.

.::.::.::.

 

Their lessons are going great. It’s a wonderful activity to keep them still in skating shape during this uncertain year. They’re getting their ‘normal people’ feet beneath them, their casual schedules and freedom. It’s wonderful, it’s more than that. It’s…

"Did you ever think you’d get so bored?" Scott asks as he slides across from her at their usual table, late Saturday afternoon.

Tessa quirks her eyebrows in disbelief. “What, you miss getting up at five every morning just to get yelled at and have to deal with my crabby self?”

He shrugs, then nods. “Well, yeah. I mean, I get up nearly that early anyway. You weren’t so bad after six or so. Besides don’t you have a couple early classes?”

"Yes, but that’s only twice a week and those days are awful anyway because I have that instructor that wears socks with his Teva sandals and —"

"Oh is he the ‘and so on and so forth'… guy?”

"YES!" she sips her coffee. "He said it thirty-seven times in a 90-minute period. THIRTY-SEVEN! Who does that?"

"People who wear socks with their Tevas, obviously.” He cracks a smile then gulps his water. “Back to before though, like… I’ve filled up my days pretty solidly. When I’m not at the fire station, I’m helping my brothers at work or I’m heading to class or watching my nieces, it’s just…”

"Not the same?" She watches as his eyes roam the table, searching for the words.

"Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy not having a schedule and not… having someone scrutinize my dietary habits and critique how skinny I am or anything, but sometimes I miss the automatic parts. The being on the ice, knowing you’re always there, always putting up with my shit or laughing at my stupid jokes, rolling your eyes when I’m a moron or covering up for me when Marina starts getting inpatient. I miss those days. Not the stress or the constant microscope we were under."

He glances up at her and shrugs his shoulders, as though it’ll dust off the nostalgia. “Believe it or not, I miss competition. I miss the shitty sleep nights before. I miss your non-stop rambling. I even miss waiting for scores…”

"But?"

"I don’t know. Is it that I miss what’s comfortable? I don’t regret my current situation. Do you?"

Taking a moment to reflect, Scott watches as Tessa follows the lone waitress with her eyes, carefully selecting words and phrasing them in just the right way in her mind. Though she’s gotten heaps better, she’s never been quick to reply, especially to serious questions. This is in part because she’s delivering the truth and she knows he’ll take what she says to heart.

"I know that these Saturdays with you are something I look forward to all week. This is something that I’m always going to want in my life," she exhales slowly, her eyes flicking to his. "I think it was pretty clear earlier this year that our particular brand of skating is no longer appreciated, that no matter what we do, we’ll never be exactly what the judges want. I know we don’t skate for them, but if I were to put my body through all that again," she looks down in her lap, biting her lip. "I’d want to do it knowing there was a possibility of winning it all. Right now? I’m in school. My only job is to graduate, hopefully with honors, and apply to grad school."

His hand is propped up by his palm as he watches her talk, absorbing every word. Whether they acknowledge this or not, it’s an important conversation and he’s cataloguing what she’s saying, trying to figure out how her choices affect him. The last part is his concern.

"Do you know what you’re doing yet? Law school or psychology?"

It’s only a flash moment, but he can tell her response isn’t going to be the whole truth. The way she hesitates and the slight twitch in her right cheek tells him everything.

"I think… I’m still not sure." What he doesn’t know is that she still needs to write her LSATs, and since she still hasn’t come to a final decision, she won’t be able to start law school until 2016 anyway. "There are a couple options I’ve been contemplating, but I’m not quite ready to discuss it yet."

Or she would give him that kind of answer. He raises an eyebrow at her, letting her know that he doesn’t appreciate the cop-out, but she shrugs and shakes her head. Narrowing his eyes, Scott decides to continue talking, hoping she’ll eventually drop him a hint.

"We still have so many opportunities. So many chances to do more. I know there’s a coaching conference coming up, but then I look at my schedule and realize I’m already booked out ‘til April. It sucks because I can’t figure out what I enjoy doing most. I love everything."

Tessa follows his hands as he talks; Scott’s always been very expressive, how they tap at the table, how he picks up the paper from his straw and twists it around, kinking it beyond recognition. She’s letting him continue talking, not interject like she so badly wants to, because it’s not what he’s saying that matters right now, it’s what he’s holding back. Maybe he’ll get around to it, maybe he won’t.

"And sometimes, I’ll be lying in bed, so exhausted, but a different type of exhausted — wondering: how I didn’t know this type of exhaustion didn’t exist? What else is there that I’m not aware of? What have I been taking for granted? What have I always assumed, but just never bothered to figure out?”

The waitress comes at that moment and delivers their plates, offering to refill their glasses and bring more coffee. Once she steps away, Scott glances up and gives Tessa a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, that was a lot."

"No, don’t apologize. I miss that," Tessa says quietly as she picks up her fork. "But I do understand. What else is out there that we don’t know?"

"Exactly! Like, all those times we went to Paris, and you had to drag me out. I thought I saw the city. I thought I enjoyed the sights. What if there’s more to it than just old buildings and assholes with accents?"

She smirks at him as she chews her broccoli. “Well, isn’t there a saying, ‘Experience is the best teacher’? Couldn’t you go travel or set off on some great adventure?”

Leaning back in his seat, Scott toys with his spoon for a moment, thinking. “That’s just it. I’m not sure what it is I’m missing. Not only that, I’m hardly in the position where I can start country-hopping. There aren’t any glaring holes that I can think of, it’s one of those things where I don’t know I was wrong until I’ve screwed up or it’s already happened.”

"Oh, yeah that’s…." Tessa’s brow furrows, contemplating the issue. "That does make things difficult. What else could we be so devoid of knowledge in though? We’ve done so much and yet, we haven’t at the same time.."

They sit in silence, ruminating. The possibilities are endless. It makes them both feel a little queasy. Something about this whole conversation makes her feel a little claustrophobic, like it will resonate for months to come. Tessa pushes away her plate after a few minutes. “Thanks. Now I can’t shut off my brain. What if we’re making huge mistakes at this very moment?”

Scott laughs and wipes his mouth, “Tess. Seriously? We’re eating dinner, not plotting out the demise of the Hockey League.”

"Right, because in a list of Worst Possible Things, hockey coming to an end is at the top."

"Glad you got your priorities straight there, Kiddo." Scott takes what was left of her plate and starts eating it as well. She drinks her coffee slowly.

"Are we going to do the winter thing?" Tessa asks, remembering that she needs to adjust her schedule.

"That gala in Toronto?"

"I thought it was Calgary." Tessa frowns, pulling out her Blackberry and scanning through emails. "No you’re right. Toronto. Calgary is … ew, no. We’re not doing that."

They continue to discuss upcoming options for the months ahead, planning and talking about everything until they close their tab and go their separate ways. Excluding their skating, their main concerns are his fire fighting training and Finals of her last Fall semester.

.::.

Winter quickly becomes a busy affair. Scott takes another shift at the fire department, Tessa has finals and quietly interviews at schools for a master’s program in psychology. They also agree to do a winter spectacular show in Vancouver a few days before Christmas. It’s partially self-choreographed, but they call in some reinforcements from Montreal when their training window rapidly dwindles.

They increase their time at the rink and gym, making sure they don’t look like a bunch of washed-up has-beens when they perform at the show. The time spent at the rink is invigorating and a welcome change away from their outside lives.

When they arrive in Vancouver, both are famished and decide to go out for dinner. It’s the first time in several months that they’re sharing a meal without wearing sweaty work-out clothes having just come from the rink. They’re also celebrating the end of Tessa’s finals and the completion of Scott’s training. She’ll be taking the remaining courses to complete her degree and he’ll be a probationary member at the fire station.

Over a bottle of wine and delicious food, they have a wonderful evening. Tessa’s booming laugh warms Scott down to his toes, especially when he gets to talking about one of the guys from the fire station who started taking cooking lessons with him.

"… So Joey has one foot on the open oven door, because, you know, that’s the most sensible place to put it, and he’s leaning way over the counter trying to grab the spoon at the opposite end and then I smell something burning and I look over and the idiot’s shoe is melting. MELTING!"

Tessa’s laughter makes him get more animated, spurning him on.

"And he just leans back, sees what’s happening and starts kicking the air like this —" Scott pokes his leg out and waffles it around, "now keep in mind, this guy is huge. Like, six feet twenty inches. And he’s pirouetting around the kitchen squealing, ‘Take it off! Take it offffff!"

At this point Tessa has forgone regular laughter for the silent breathless kind that brings tears to her eyes, shoulders shaking.

"Before I can get over there, his shoe finally comes off and goes SAILING across the room and hits Madame Le Croix (the cooking instructor) in the shoulder."

Holding up her hand, Tessa starts shaking her head, begging him to stop long enough for her to catch her breath. But he can’t stop. It’s too good.

"And Madame turns and gives Joey this spirit crushing look and says, ‘Zat shoe is ze best thing you’ve taken out of zee oven all night! Next week, you wear no shoes."

Actual tears are dripping down her face and her cheeks are red and her chest burns from the lack of oxygen. Scott leans back and watches her, loving everything about this moment, from the wine to the crappy weather to the way her hand clutches the table as she regains her composure. Mostly.

"I can’t believe she let him come back. There’s no way."

"Oh, just wait. I haven’t told you about the next week —"

They start trading stories and talking about Tessa’s upcoming trip to Australia to visit her sister in January before classes resume. Her face lights up as she gets more animated, telling him she’s going to try surfing. Scott demands photographic evidence and expects her to be semi-pro by the end of her trip. When the waiter politely informs them that the restaurant is closing, they bashfully rise and then duck into another place for dessert and continue talking for another hour.

Not once do they mention skating.

When they come together on the ice for the show, it’s like they never missed a day. Their movements are perfectly timed, all seamless transitions and deep edges. Tessa silently wishes the rest of her life could be this easy, and Scott enjoys the familiar comfort and sense of strength he gets from being with her. Their combined presence produces such an incomparable sensation that it leaves viewers breathless. They’re ethereal and magical and everyone remarks on their obvious mutual adoration.

While they’re in town they do a couple radio shows and interviews, then fly to Toronto for two days to attend a gala and guest on The George Strombopolous show. Everyone asks the same questions, Are you finally together? What have you been doing? What’s next? Do you miss it?

Their answers provide just enough information to keep people wondering. What the general public doesn’t know is that when Tessa and Scott leave the studio, he stays in town that night with the leggy blonde sports analyst and Tessa attends a charity dinner for underprivileged children. Scott enjoys a romantic dinner and late night dancing. Tessa on the other hand, enchants a hockey player with the Leafs who is there as a major donor to the charity. He asks for her number before she takes her leave, and calls first thing the next morning, asking to meet for breakfast before she catches the train home to London.

A couple days later, Tessa and Scott exchange gifts at the rink. Sitting in the stands with empty ice and only the sound of a Zamboni, they sit in silence as they recall spending the previous Christmas practicing for Nationals. They barely spoke to their families on Christmas day the previous year, every conversation fraught with tension and the ever-present reminder of their competitors.

Tessa reaches over and grabs Scott’s hand, leaning her head against his shoulder as she sighs. Scott turns and kisses the top of her hair and grips her hand tight in his, thankful for what they have, but sorry for what they lost.


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While busy doing other things later that evening, it occurs to both of them that Tessa said they’d still be doing this in a couple years.

.::.::.::.

 

When Tessa returns to the Great White North in January, she’s sporting quite the tan and impressive bruises on parts of her body. This is displeasing to Scott.

"Holy hell, did you get in a fight with a bull?" Scott pulls up the sleeve of her fleece, checking to see how far the bruise extends. She swipes at his hands, then continues her morning stretch, going into a lunge.

"Let’s just say the Pacific Ocean won that particular battle when I was surfing."

"Did you get up on the board, though?"

"Yeah, by the end of the trip I was doing pretty well, but I got my ass kicked. Several times."

Scott nods as he rolls his eyes. “Perhaps you should just stick to skating, seems more your thing. Not too many surfers up here.”

"Too late. I’m already planning on going back for more." Tessa smiles brightly. "Besides, I’m thinking of tennis lessons, getting a little more serious about it."

"Tennis, huh?" Scott leans back, stretching his groin region. "Ya know, I still haven’t seen any pictures of this infamous surfing adventure."

Hopping up, Tessa reaches for her phone in her bag. “I’ve got more at home on my computer, these aren’t great quality.”

Scott scrolls through the pictures, smiling at the shots of Tessa and her sister out in the water cutting through the waves. “This is a good pic,” he admires, “you should frame this one.”

They actually look pretty good, though Jordan looks a more at ease on the board. There are also pictures with many other people, probably friends… very attractive male friends. Male friends in many pictures with Tessa, arms slung over shoulders - occasionally looking a bit too cozy.

"Wow, did you meet half of Australia?"

"It felt like it," Tessa nods. "The guy she’s been seeing? He works in government there and used to be in the special forces. He’s like," Tessa holds out her arms for height and then shoulder breadth, "he’s huge. He knows tons of people. Real friendly and charming. Reminds me of you a bit."

"Would your brothers approve?"

Tessa smirks, her eyes narrowing a little in delight. “Not sure. You know how Aussies are. I doubt he’s in it for the long haul.”

"Do you think your sister is aware of that?"

Tessa steps out on the ice, removing her skate guards. “Oh, I’m not too concerned about her. She’s quite the heartbreaker.” Tessa turns as many of the kids spot her and start gliding over, excited about her return.

"Must be a trait of all the Virtue women," Scott calls out, receiving a raised eyebrow and mock glare in return. When he skates up beside her, they welcome everyone back from Winter break, and commence their lessons.

During lunch in the snack lounge they return to the past few weeks activities. Scott details his first official week at the fire-station as more than a student and Christmas with the entire Moir clan, which was mass chaos from start to finish. He loved every bit of it.

"So have the boys at the station delegated you as the chef yet?" Tessa asks, leaning back in her chair.

"It’s looking more and more like it." Scott takes a swig of his water. "Being a probie is fun, but it sucks too because I’m basically getting hazed the whole time. I kinda thought it would let up once I passed the test."

Tessa’s eyebrows draw together. “Well, I’m no expert, but from my extensive television research, being a probie is something you are until you earn your place in the food chain.”

"Yeah, yeah." He leans down and slaps the boot of her crossed leg. "So there’s a couple of kids I need you to see this afternoon."

Tessa turns and surveys her partner for a couple of moments. “Is that so?”

"Yeah. They…" he doesn’t even finish what he’s saying, just gives her a look.

"Really? That good?"

"Yup. Really."

"I’ll be on the look out, let you know," she says as she stands, pushing back from the table. "Oh hey, Tony left a message while I was gone. Any idea what for?"

"Tony, our agent, Tony?”

Tessa nods, holding the door open while Scott tosses his trash. “I think there’s some fashion event coming up. Wants to send you. Hey, why didn’t you say anything about the makeup people trying to recruit you?”

Tessa quirks her head in confusion, then she realizes. “Oh. Ohhhhh. Covergirl? I don’t know, about all of that. They’re doing a campaign for some new product, but the last thing I was at kinda didn’t sit well with me.”

"What do you mean?"

She shrugs as they approach the boards, setting her water bottle on the side. “Lots of drugs and back-stabbing, really petty stuff. I appreciate and enjoy fashion for the aesthetic, but not the industry.”

"Didn’t your last paycheck pay for your trip to Australia?"

She sighs, slipping off her guards. “That’s the problem… I don’t know. I’ll talk to him. See what’s up.”

At the end of the afternoon, Tessa’s cheeks are red from laughter and Scott nearly has tears in his eyes from combined mischief. He just got done showing an older couple how to properly convey ‘romance’ on the ice, by using Tessa in a rather handsy fashion.

"I can’t believe you just did that," Tessa grips his arm, catching her breath.

"You told me to show him how to do it right, so I did!”

"But you didn’t have to use me to get the point across!"

"Of course I did!" Scott laughs. "You gave as much as you got, might I add, Ms. Virtue."

They grab their things and close up the rink, waving good bye to the weekend manager. When they slide into their booth for dinner, they simply wave at the waitress who already has their drinks queued.

"I think you’re right, those two kids were… they were outstanding. But you know neither one of us is in the place to actually start coaching."

"I know," Scott huffs, "so who should we send them to?"

"Who’s hurting for skaters?"

Scott frowns. They debate which coaches would be the best fit for the next ten minutes, finally coming to a decision as their food arrives. Tessa watches Scott as he plows into his food, quiet as he thinks.

"Don’t be frustrated Scott. You know I’m right." She says quietly. "We started teaching lessons so we could do exactly this: identify the ones with potential and to give back to the community. Let’s give them a couple years to develop and see if they truly want it. When the time is right, we can poach them back."

Scott gives her a conspirational smile. “You’re so cutthroat sometimes. I love it.”

Tessa tosses a fry at him. “Like you weren’t thinking it too.”

"I was, but you’re the one that said it!"

They spend the rest of the meal talking about Tessa’s classes which start that Monday and Scott’s next guest-hosting appearance the following week. While busy doing other things later that evening, it occurs to both of them that Tessa said they’d still be doing this in a couple years. So much certainty. It wasn’t even an 'if' it was a ‘when’ and both of them are perfectly okay with that.

.::.

Tessa and Scott spend a majority of February settling into the grind, arranging an opportunity for their junior ice dance couple to meet with Marie-France and Patrice, the coaches they identified as the best fit. The meeting goes well and the coaches negotiate with the skaters and parents a future for the pair. In addition, Tessa and Scott receive some additional assistance with a program they’ve been developing.They start working their choreography for Stars on Ice early, primarily because the Fall taught them that time moves much quicker when they aren’t required to be at the rink daily.

Just after mid-terms half-way through March, Tessa learns that one of her and Scott’s mutual friends just got engaged and is having a cocktail party in a few weeks to celebrate. Surprisingly, Scott brings it up at dinner after a Saturday lesson, completely beside himself with shock.

"Can you believe it? Two-hands Meg is getting married. Who would have thought? I can’t wait to meet the poor bastard who thinks he can tie her down," Scott smiles at Tessa knowing that she agrees even if she won’t say it.

"You have got to stop calling her Two-Hands, Scott. She hasn’t done a hand stand on a bar in ages.” Tessa scrunches her nose at the coffee. Not a good batch. “Anyway, I think he’s a great guy. I met him once at her birthday party back in December. He seemed smitten.”

"Of course he did! That’s because her boobs," Scott gestures far out from his chest, "are two very good reasons."

"Scott!"

"Hey, it’s true."

"I can’t take you anywhere."

"And yet, you have," Scott smirks at her while she ignores him, peering at the menu. He watches her as she does so, noticing that her eyes seem overly green today. Perhaps it’s her sweater. In doing this, he misses what she asks, causing her to look up at him in confusion.

"Hmmm?"

"I asked if you are you taking that girl you’ve been seeing to the engagement party?"

"Laura? Yeah, I guess. Haven’t given it much thought, actually."

Tessa bites her lip in contemplation. The waitress arrives and collects their orders, bringing Tessa a fresh cup of coffee.

"Are you bringing anyone?" Scott doubts she will. She doesn’t like to stay long at parties unless it’s for very close friends. They exhaust her.

"I was gonna see if I could just be your plus one and not have to deal with it." She shrugs. "I guess I will."

"I thought you were dating someone? That Shawn guy?"

"Steve. You know his name.” Tessa rolls her eyes and gives him a coy smile. “Anyway, I don’t know if I want to bring him to this.”

"Why? You afraid to bring him around? Our friends too much for your casual thing?"

She gives him a long-suffering look. “I feel like we have this conversation every time I’m dating someone.”

"Probably do. Look, I’m just looking out for your best interests here. As are at least three of my friends. Two of them, not so much. Which is why —"

"I am forbidden to ever date them. Yes, I know."

"Right. So you gonna bring him?" Scott leans forward, elbows on the table.

Tessa leans back, crossing her arms. “Not if you’re going to act like that.”

"What," Scott immediately turns innocent, "like the charming individual I am?"

"Like my brothers when they met him. It was bad enough when they —"

"Wait," Scott holds up a hand. "He’s met your family?"

Tessa waves her hand like it’s inconsequential. “Yeah it wasn’t planned. They showed up early to my place and he was leaving late because of… reasons.” Her face pinks slightly and Scott tries to ignore all the possible scenarios he can conjure.

"Ha, smooth, Virtue. Way to get caught by the fam. Such a rookie."

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. He took it like a pro. Even came golfing with us.”

Scott’s eyebrows shoot up. “Was he any good?”

"Yeah," Tessa frowns. "He beat all of us. I should’ve guessed that though."

"Why. is he semi-pro or something?"

"No he —" Tessa is cut off when the waitress brings their food. Scott changes topics after and she forgets to tell him what Steve does for a living.

As they rise to leave Scott turns back to Tessa. “Hey, if you really don’t want to bring that Shawn—”

"Steve"

"Steve guy, whatever, let me know. I can always tell Laura that it’s a smaller party or something."

Tessa quirks her eyebrows at him, a knowing smile on her lips as she reaches her car. “Don’t worry about it, Scotty. I’ll be fine.”

"Good," Scott replies as he reaches his truck. "Can’t have you cramping my style."

.::..::.::.


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She turns in such a way that leaves him breathless for a moment; oblivious to how truly gorgeous she is, and the effect she has on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Other than T/S, all characters herein are completely fictional.

.::.::.::.

 

It’s three weeks later when the party rolls around. Preoccupied, Tessa fidgets with her earring as she sits in the passenger seat of Steve’s car. She’s a little concerned about the fact that he seems genuinely interested in getting to know her friends. It’s not that she doesn’t want him to; it’s just that… She’s not sure how long this relationship is going to last.

This stems from a dinner party she suffered through with Steve, a bunch of his teammates and their significant others earlier in the week. For the first time in her life, she found herself as the ‘hockey player’s hot girlfriend’; and was relegated to the land of arm-holder and trophy wife. There was also an unfortunate incident in the ladies’ room when she overheard some of the other women referring to her as a ‘gold digger’ and other unkind names. 

Obviously they didn’t know who she was as an athlete, but what truly irritated her was they didn’t even know her as a person. She thought she left that kind of backstabbing pettiness behind in locker rooms. Granted, Steve has always been very proud of her accomplishments and has never treated her like the others, but most people don’t have Steve’s inherent sense of decency either.

Regardless, she’s starting to narrow down exactly what she wants in a man, and playing second fiddle to his career is certainly not an aspect she can tolerate well. Then again, she has so many aspirations, she’s not sure she’ll ever find someone who will be willing to suffer through her desire to explore and excel. Because that’s what she does — work relentlessly and excel to the point of making it difficult to maintain relationships. Shit, now she’s working herself in a circle.

God, she doesn’t want to go out tonight.

"Tess?"

"Hmmmm?" she turns from staring out the window and looks back to him, his piercing blue eyes slanted in concern.

"You’ve been real quiet. You okay?"

If there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s being okay. Fine even. Nodding, she smiles, then pushes her thoughts away and focuses on the present; which is an engagement party at a swanky winebar. Although it’s wonderful to celebrate a friend’s impending marital bliss, it also reminds Tessa that she is behind the curve in most facets of her life, including being even remotely close to considering marriage. Which she is not.

"I know I’ve already told you this at least twice, but seriously? Red is definitely your color," Steve gives her a dimpled grin. She loves those damn dimples. His finger traces along the edge of the hem, a couple inches above her knee, and let’s out a whistle. "I’m almost afraid to take you out in public. You’re gonna stop traffic with that dress! Cause accidents! It’ll be mayhem."

She laughs at him, shaking her head as she playfully slaps him on the arm. “You’re incorrigible.”

Steve parks his responsible volvo SUV at the valet stand and walks around to escort her inside. The weather is nice, but still chilly and she wears her black coat to preserve body heat. She surveys the facade of their intended destination. The winebar is lined with windows that open up in the summer, all warm golden light and lounge music. Unfortunately, it’s not warm enough yet; however there is plenty of music to be heard. It’s definitely a yuppie romantic place and it’s doing very well for itself.

Just before they step inside, Steve grabs her hand and tugs her to him, stealing a lingering kiss before releasing her. Slowly opening her eyes, she raises an eyebrow. “What was that for?”

"I’m not joking Tessa, you look absolutely gorgeous. And I know how you are about PDA, so I need to take advantage of this moment to get me through this evening."

She takes mercy on him and pushes up for a much longer kiss. When she pulls away his eyes are still closed and his jaw is clenched like a man in bittersweet torment. She reaches up to wipe off the lipstick and whispers, “Will that suffice?”

He opens his eyes and nods. “Yeah, that’ll do.” He flashes her a thousand-watt smile and opens the door for her to pass through. Once inside they remove their coats and are escorted to the main area where everyone is gathered. Oak barrels stacked high to the ceiling line the walls, custom lights, eclectic art, and high-top tables fill the space.The crowd is boisterous and bountiful, causing Tessa to tense slightly at the entrance.

"Hey?" Steve grabs her hand, understanding her hesitation. She had to explain her slight introversion early on when they started dating. Like all things, he takes it like a saint. She thinks perhaps that he is too good for her. "Take a deep breath. I’ll play interference when it gets to be too much. Sound good?"

Exhaling, she glances up at him and nods, smiling at the hostess who has just recognized who Steve is and is trying not to freak out.

.::.

Scott’s clustered around a table with his girlfriend(?) Laura, Meg and a bunch of the guys he and Meg grew up with. They’ve all known each other since they could hold snowball fights and most attended primary school together. It’s been a while since everyone has had a reason to gather and it’s like a loud reunion with fancy clothes and overpriced wine.

"I can’t believe you got Scott to wear a tie," Meg pats Scott’s chest as she smiles at Laura. "This guy hates ties."

"Really? He wears them all the time at work. I just figured cocktail attire meant he should probably forgo the hockey jersey tonight."

"You’re lucky I didn’t escort you here in the truck." Scott replies as he glides his hand along her arm, squeezing her to him. She gives him a mock glare in reply.

"Truck, as in fire-truck?" Meg asks as she scoops up an hor d’oeuvre and takes a bite.

"Yes, Scott keeps threatening to show up with a fire-truck and take me out for a night on the town."

"Well, that’s one way to get free parking," Meg says. "Laura, I absolutelyI love your shoes, did you get them…"

They continue talking while Scott and his other buddies are comparing fantasy teams for the baseball season. Occasionally he glances around for Tessa, knowing that she’ll be at least twenty minutes late because she hates being the first person at a party when she can get away with sliding in through a side door like she’s been there the whole time. Normally it works.

Except tonight.

His buddy stops talking mid conversation when she enters because that’s what she does — halt very important fantasy sport discussions. Many heads turn her way, but she’s oblivious because she’s talking to the hostess and some guy, smiling at something and looking mildly uncomfortable. The red dress she’s wearing is similar to the one she wore last year when they did the post-Sochi interview circuit. He remembers that one very well. However, this dress is cut differently with a slit and it’s a little darker red and her legs look great and damn he’s staring.

Now, Tessa is a beautiful girl. He forgets sometimes because he’s developed what he likes to think is an immunity to her physical appearance. How else would he have survived being a teenager (and yes, an adult) with her? He likens it to a superhero power. Which unfortunately, has left him at this present moment. It’s like Tessa in red dresses is his kryptonite.

"I’m sorry, did you just say kryptonite?" his buddy asks, blinking away from the bombshell that entered the room.

"Maybe? I dunno. Who’s that with Tessa?" Scott is immediately concerned because this is not some dorky kid she goes to school with. Of course not. Since when does Tessa date normal people? If he didn’t know any better he’d swear that was Steve —.

"That’s Steve Parks. Plays for the Leafs," Laura offers from beside him. "They’ve been dating since… I dunno. January? I thought you knew that?"

"She never mentioned his last name," Scott sighs, trying to hide a scowl. "What is she doing with a hockey player? She hates hockey players.”

"I think it has something to do with the fact that he’s the Nicest Person in the World," his buddy offers. "He donated a ton of money to the cancer treatment center and is a big brother at the local YMCA."

"He helped me change a flat tire on my car last year after a game," Laura states. "When we realized my spare was also flat he arranged for a car to take me home that night. He’s super sweet."

"Apparently he still visits his grandmother for Sunday dinners when he’s in town," Meg says. Scott frowns. Why do these people know this innocuous information about another person? Besides, none of this is helping. "Anyway, I’m going to say ‘hi’. Need anything?"

Scott and the others shake their heads as Meg glides over to Tessa, squealing, “Damn Tessa, lookin’ good!” Tessa is swept into a hug, squashed against Meg’s bountiful bosom. Her curly red hair seems extra red and curly today. Perhaps it’s because she’s in love, Tessa reasons.

"That’s what I said," Steve states in agreement next to Tessa. Meg pulls away and smiles big and wide, holding out her hand.

"Meg this is Steve," Tessa says as she absently places her hand on his arm, while he shakes with the other, "Steve this is Meg, the bride-to-be."

"Congratulations. This is a fantastic venue for a celebration like this," he gives her his dimply thousand-watt smile and Tessa spots the exact moment that Meg becomes smitten. If Tessa were more insecure about his affections she’d be concerned about his ability to make women swoon. Instead, his hand falls comfortably to the small of her back, thumb rubbing an area of exposed skin. She gives him a warning glance at which he promptly winks while Meg chatters on blithely, waving over her fiancé.

Though she can’t see him, Tessa can feel Scott’s eyes. Not in a good way, either. Perhaps she should have told him she was dating Steve Parks. Meg lets out a loud peel of laughter as another couple and her fiancé join them, making jokes about riffraff and hockey players.

Sighing inwardly, Tessa glances longingly at the bar on the opposite side of the room. This is going to be a long night.

.::.

By the time she finally makes it over to a corner that seems somewhat tame, Tessa feels overwhelmed. How do people find so much to talk about? It’s all inane chatter and small talk. Why must they all encroach upon her space? Steve is a pro at it and she’s passable (especially when she’s with Scott), but after the other evening’s dinner she feels like she needs a break from humanity. And catty bitches.

Scanning the room, she finds Steve in a long line getting them both a glass of wine. How she made it this long without one is —

"Here," a glass of chardonnay is plunked in front of her. "It’s going to be at least twenty minutes before he gets over here and you have yet to drink anything."

"Thank you," Tessa replies as she glances at Scott. He’s wearing a gray suit with a tie that brings out the green in his hazel eyes. "I’ve always loved that suit on you. Very dapper." She reaches out and smoothes a wrinkle in his tie. "Is this new?"

"What?" Scott looks down at the silk, somewhat distracted. "Uh, yeah. I think Laura bought it for me? Or I got it for Christmas? I forget."

His tone is too clipped to be as blasé as he’s attempting. She glances up at him and knows the look on his face. She should have anticipated this. “What?”

"Steve Parks, right wing for the Leafs? You’re dating a hockey player? You know the reputation they have.”

She looks up to see his eyes trained on her. “I do indeed.”

"And you’re okay with that? With being associated with that?"

"No one really knows we’re together, so I think I’m good."

"Laura already knew you were together. So if she does, you know other people are aware of it."

"Your girlfriend also hangs out in locker rooms and goes to most games. She’s seen me around before. Besides, she’s also not one to gossip."

Scott nods, this is true. For all her nosiness she keeps her information to herself unless it provides a necessary advantage. She’s going places, that one.

"So you know Laura?"

"A bit." Tessa nods, giving nothing away, as she takes a sip of her wine. It’s heavenly. She ignores Scott’s gaze on her, not wanting to see what it holds. "This one is good, which is it?"

"Not on the menu. I went to main part of the restaurant and got a real drink," he holds up his manhattan. "This one seemed more your style."

She smiles in thanks and enjoys her drink, both surveying the crowd. “How long have you been with Laura?”

"Officially?"

"Sure."

"I don’t know, I guess since the end of January."

Tessa raises an eyebrow. “How do you not know?”

"Eh, it was when we became exclusive," Scott swirls the whiskey around in his drink. "She’s fun. It’s nice. I’m bringing her to mom and Aunt Carol’s birthday party."

Tessa merely nods, face studiously blank. “That’ll be fun. Introduce her to your brothers and their wives. See if she passes the test.”

Scott laughs. “She’s a tough girl. I think she’ll be fine. Are you gonna make it?”

Tessa’s eyebrows draw together as she looks up at him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

"I dunno," he rubs the back of his head with his hand, sure sign he’s anxious. "You haven’t come around lately, that’s all. My family hasn’t seen you in a while. I think they don’t know what you look like anymore."

Tessa rolls her eyes at his guilt trip. “That is untrue and you know it. Also, I was at the last get-together; you were not. If I recall correctly, you bailed to go down to Toronto for —”

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. You got me. Fine." Scott watches as Steve starts to make his way over, holding two glasses of not so great house wine. "But you’re coming though, right?"

"Yes, I’m bringing my parents too."

"Good, good." Scott grins as Steve draws up to the table, easily four inches taller than him. Steve hikes up his eyebrows at the glass Tessa’s holding to which she shrugs and taps the top of the table for him to set it down.

"Scott this is Steve," Tessa makes the mandatory introductions even though both are very aware of who the other is. "Steve this is Scott."

"Nice to meet you, finally," Steve says as they shake each other’s hands firmly.

Surprisingly, Scott and Steve hit it off, jumping straight into male bonding conversation: sports. They chat for five minutes straight before Scott catches Tessa moving to her second glass of wine, still quiet. She’s in a strange mood tonight and he can’t figure out why. Maybe that’s why she dressed so attractively tonight, so people would be distracted by her appearance and less by her manner. He has a hypothesis that Tessa wears clothing and makeup like armor. Knowing her feelings on large, rowdy gatherings, it wouldn’t be unreasonable.

"Oh man, great show last week," Steve drums the table with his large hand. "I feel like you and Strombo should have your own sports show. The pair of you had a bunch of us guys in stitches. You play off each other well."

Scott smiles, appreciating the compliment. “Yeah, it would be fun, but I’m not sure if I’m ready for a more permanent thing.”

"Makes sense, Tessa says you’re a fire-fighter now? And about five other things?"

Glancing at Tessa who gives him a warm smile, Scott continues. “That’s.. yeah. I kind of bit off more than I could chew last fall, and the past few months have been crazy. I think I need a vacation.”

"Tell me about it," Steve replies. "I’ve been trying to talk this one," he nudges Tessa,"into taking a weekend trip but she’s got school and then she’s either busy with you at the rink or volunteering at the dance studio or out somewhere saving the world."

"Ha, that’s about right," Scott smirks at Tessa who has placed her hand on Steve’s arm and is squeezing it. She’s already got Steve whipped. Of course, it works when she does it to Scott too.

"Before both of you can gang up on me," Tessa states, "I believe Laura is looking for you." She points across the room to where Laura is standing with a bunch of people he doesn’t particularly care for, waving Scott over.

He swears under his breath. There’s a woman standing in that group that he may or may not have hooked up with last Fall. He left before she woke up. This could get messy.

Tessa catches his hesitation and knows exactly what his problem is. “What? Too many sharks in the water?”

"Please, contain your excitement." Giving her a dark look, he takes a deep breath and sets his glass on the table, nodding at Steve and squeezing Tessa on the shoulder as he passes. "If you see blood drawn or slaps given, don’t worry about it."

"Wasn’t going to," Tessa quips, watching as he walks off. She leans forward on the table, rubbing her shoulder against Steve’s arm. "That went well."

"Did you think it wouldn’t?" Steve asks, peering at her over the rim of his wine glass.

"A little bit. Scott knows I have an aversion to your kind."

"My kind?" Steve smirks. "You say it like we’re mutants or something."

"You kind of are," Tessa turns to face him. "I mean… remember the other day during practice when Bo broke his ankle and then the trainer went ahead and reduced it? While Bo was still sitting on the bench!? WITHOUT PAIN MEDS?"

“You watched that. I did not. I most definitely do not have the stomach for it.”

"I almost threw up afterwards, how do you even…" Tessa fans herself, getting queasy just thinking of it. "It worked though, I mean… Bo’s foot was turning blue."

"Yeah, apparently blood flow is helpful for your appendages," Steve whispers as he runs his hand along her very exposed back. Tessa looks up at him through her lashes, giving him a coy smile. She’s about to say something when they’re interrupted by Paul and Sarah, the couple who hosted the party in the fall.

Later, when it’s time to depart, Tessa makes a trip to the ladies room. As she is returning from the restroom, Scott approaches and grabs her hand, pulling her back in that direction. They stop in a small alcove when he turns to face her.

"What’s up?" Tessa’s concerned by the serious look on his face. "Everything okay with you two? Laura seemed fine earlier when all of us were talking after the toasts were given."

"Don’t worry about that, we’re fine. What’s up with you? You’re acting strange. You’re doing that thing where you get stuck in your head and I can’t figure you out."

Tessa gives him a quick smile, head tilting to the side for a second. “Don’t worry about it. I’m trying to work out something and I think I just need a break from people for a little bit.”

He nods, watching her closely. That’s all she’s going to give him. He learned a long time ago that when she’s ready for him to know something, she’ll say it. In the meantime he has to take what she offers. They watch each other for a few moments as he debates whether he should push further. “You sure?”

Steve calls for Tessa, holding up her coat. She waves in acknowledgement and looks back at Scott, placing her hand on his wrist as she passes him. He tries to ignore the sensation her touch sends up his arm, focusing on her response.

“Positive. See you on Saturday.”

When she starts walking away, Scott gets a full view of her backless dress and bites his lip, debating something.

"Tess?" He calls out before she reaches Steve. She turns in such a way that leaves him breathless for a moment; oblivious to how truly gorgeous she is, and the effect she has on him. "You look beautiful tonight, Kiddo."

She ducks her head, tucks her hair behind her ear like she does when she’s uncomfortable, then glances back up at him and replies softly, “Thanks, Scott.”

Scott watches as Tessa returns to Steve who is chatting with yet another curious guest. He holds open her jacket as she slips inside, waves goodbye to the other person, then pulls open the door for Tessa as she passes through.

Walking up the corridor back to the party, Scott can still see them outside as they wait for the valet to return his car. To his chagrin, he catches Steve nuzzle her neck, causing Tessa to turn and grin at him, reaching up for a quick kiss.

Scott returns to the party, throws his arm around Laura and pulls her in for a dizzying kiss, just because. She pulls back and grins at him, sliding her hand around to his backside and squeezing quickly before they turn back and say their farewells.

That night, with Laura’s arm draped over his chest - snoring lightly, he stares at the ceiling for hours. Every time he shuts his eyes, he keeps seeing Tessa in that damn dress. But more than anything it’s that conflicted look in her eyes that haunts him. He wants to make it go away. He also wants Steve to stop kissing her neck, but Scott has no control over that. Because they agreed. Long ago he and Tessa made an agreement and Scott refuses to be the one to go back on it, especially right now.

So if she wants to date nice hockey players or tan surfers or dorky guys with glasses, she can do whatever she wants. It doesn’t bother him. Nope. Not at all.

.::.::.::.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be going too slow for you. That’s cool, but I’m a fan of the slow build up. Everything that is happening, the conversations and relationships — serve a very specific purpose. There are many excellent fics that get straight to it, so I urge you that way. Lastly, I’m incorporating a lot of original characters primarily because RPF actually squicks me out and it’s hard enough writing about these two, but my muse will not be denied. So get used to the OCs. Thanks for reading!


	6. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I need you to promise me, that if this becomes a problem, you’ll tell me."

.::.::.::.

Stars on Ice starts in just under a week, with rehearsals beginning in a few days. Problem is, Tessa still has a solid two-weeks of school left before graduation. After much coordination and bending over backwards and inside out, she’s been able to arrange to take all but one exam early. The last and most important is a paper that’s worth 60% of her grade. No pressure or anything. She boards herself up in her apartment for four days, studying when she’s not in class, writing and researching and cramming.

Finally, it’s the night of Alma and Carol’s birthday party and it’s the first time Tessa has emerged from her apartment in over 48 hours. Her parents were kind enough to offer her a ride, to which she readily accepted.

"Tessa, you look tired, are you sleeping?" her mother frets and her father ‘hmmmms’ at her, but it doesn’t matter because it won’t change anything she’s doing. "Are you eating? I don’t like how thin you look."

Typically her mom is her favorite person. Her go-to. But both of them are struggling to stabilize their relationship since she’s moved closer to home and become much more independent than she was as a figure skater. It’s an odd paradox to face at her age, but, here they are. After telling her parents of her intended plans for the Fall, her mom has become a little more… mom-like in a retroactive sense. Lately, the comments have become more pointed; granted, her mom’s assessments are accurate. No, she hasn’t been sleeping and her diet has consisted of popcorn and whatever she can shove in a blender.

She gives her mom a non-plussed look and climbs into the backseat of the car, making small talk while her father drives them to the restaurant. She updates her parents on her exams, loosely discussing the paper she’s working on, and wondering how she’s supposed to find the time to complete it when she’s on tour. Sitting in the backseat, discussing her schoolwork, it all makes her feel very… stilted.

Once they get inside Shoeless Joe’s, they bid hello and good tidings to the birthday ladies, shower them with gifts and hugs, then take their seats at a booth just off the center of action. Various family members and cousins stop by, some Tessa knows even better than her own more scattered, reserved family. Everyone is excited about her graduation and want to know all about her plans, which at present are shady at best.

During a brief pause in visitors, Tessa’s mom looks over and gives her a discerning look. “Tessa, you need to talk to Scott. The longer you wait, the bigger deal this will be.”

Tessa nods, exhaling slowly. “I know, I know. We just keep getting distracted at the rink and then… I, don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing.” She leans forward and props her head up on her hands.

"I know you’re tired, Tess." Tessa’s dad reaches over and rubs her arm. "It’s a big deal, to be selected for this kind of thing. Besides, it’s something you’ve always wanted to do. Opportunities like this don’t come along very often."

She looks at her parents and nods, hoping she looks more confident than she feels. Before she gets up to mingle, Tessa takes a look around and soaks up the obvious affection this gigantic family has for one another. There is laughter and gossip and chaos; love and joy and genuine merriment. They’re open and accepting and have always treated her like one of their own.

Her gaze falls on the rather heated pool match occurring between Danny and Laura, Scott’s girlfriend. Tessa has mixed feelings towards her, mainly that she’s not very kind to her own gender. Perhaps it comes from working as a sports analyst in a male-dominated field, or maybe she just doesn’t like hanging out with women much, but she’s never gotten a good vibe from her. Also as a possible result of working in her field, she’s an unabashed flirt (especially when she wants something); then again, so is Scott.

.::.

Shoeless Joe’s is hoppin’. Packed to the brim, it’s hard to hear oneself think. But that’s what Scott is doing. Thinking. Something doesn’t feel quite right, and he can’t turn off the feeling. Downing the rest of his soda, he sets it in on the bar and looks around. He pulled the short straw that night and is remaining sober in order to escort various family members home safely. It works out fine though, he has to be at work at six the next morning anyway.

There’s a great crowd that turned out for his mom and Aunt’s birthday, it seems like most of Ilderton is there, including some of the ruffians from London. The Virtues are holding up a corner, chatting with various family members. Scott’s about to head over and say hi, but swings by the billiard table to check on Laura who is currently kicking Danny’s ass at pool.

"I’ve got five on my girl here, Danny boy!" Scott says as he drops a five on the table and kisses her cheek in passing.

"Aw, thanks baby!" She calls after Scott then turns to his brother. "Hey, I gave you fair warning, Danny."

Greeting the Virtues, Scott slides into the booth beside Tessa, slinging an arm around her shoulder. She looks up at him and flashes a weak grin, but the darkness under her eyes makes him frown in response. One of his uncles currently has Tessa’s father engaged in a long discussion about a park in the north part of the county, while Tessa’s mom is making arrangements for Stars on Ice with his Aunt Carol.

"How’s it goin?" Scott leans over and looks at her glass, surprised that she’s drinking chocolate milk. "Are you the DD too ?"

Shaking her head, she turns to him. “Nope. I’ve got to head back and study.”

"How are your finals coming?"

She shrugs. “I’ve got one left and then that stupid paper.”

"Well, you know I’ve still got my trusty red pen," Scott offers. He’s not that great with grammar, but he’s still a good at helping her draw her ideas together. She gives him a genuine smile, one that makes him feel moderately better. He doesn’t like seeing her like this.

"I’ll take all the help I can get, you know that."

"Do we need to skip practice tomorrow? I don’t want to screw you up," Scott scratches his scruff, frowning.

"No," Tessa reaches out and pats his hand. "That would not be good for my mental health. I need to skate. NEED."

Scott laughs, reaching up and tugging at some hair escaping her bun. “Noted. Did you read the email from Marie-France and Patrice? They want to meet up when we’re in Montreal.”

"Yeah, that sounds great. We can see how our skaters are doing." Tessa nods as she sips her drink. Scott reaches for another straw and sticks it in her drink, stealing a sip. She gives him a weak glare but leans her head back on the booth, watching as his brother crows in victory, having made a comeback against Laura. Laura gives Danny a good-natured shove, shaking her head as his other brother approaches, wanting to challenge for a rematch.

"Ah shit, I just lost five bucks." Scott steals another sip from Tessa’s glass, then slides it back to her.

"That’ll set you back quite a bit," Tessa quips, a little spunk returning. "I think Danny’s the first one to beat her. She was wiping the floor with your uncles earlier."

"Yeah, she was quite the shark at University."

"Oh, I bet," Tessa replies, but her tone isn’t completely innocent. Scott looks at her, wondering what she knows that he doesn’t. Instead, she leans closer to him, the playful look gone. "Hey, can we go outside for a minute? We need to talk about something."

Scott frowns, not liking her serious tone. “You okay? Is everything alright?”

"Yeah," she replies, pushing him out of the booth gently. "C’mon, let’s go outside."

He follows her through the restaurant, high-fiving relatives and patting others on the back as they greet both him and Tessa. She pushes through the doors, wrapping her arms around herself once they escape the din of the restaurant. She turns to him and gets straight to business, knowing he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.

"Remember how we talked about me applying to master’s programs?"

"Yeah," Scott replies, still unsure if he should be worried. "Well, one of my professors at school has been recruiting me pretty heavily to work on a research project with her in the Fall. If I accept, it’ll be a full-ride and I’ll get the opportunity to publish. Teaching too, but that’s… well it’s part of being a grad student."

"Publish? That’s good, right?"

She smiles sweetly. “Yes. Very much. It would help establish me in my field.”

"That’s great!" He grabs her hands and squeezes. "Tessa, that’s wonderful. You should do it then, all the way."

"There’s one thing though," she bites her lip, shaking her head. "We’ll be spending the fall in England."

Oh. “Oh. That’s… that’s great. You’ve always wanted to do something like this, here’s your chance!” He gives her a bright smile, trying to remain positive. She’s never been quiet about her desire to travel, to live in another country. He’s been preparing himself for this moment for the last… ten years.

If there’s one thing Scott has always known, it’s that he’s just a small-town boy from Canada and Tessa is a big-city girl destined for more, so much more. More than he could ever offer.

Her smile falls as she watches his admirable attempt at acceptance. “Don’t do that, Scott. Don’t put up a brave front. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

His face relaxes as he tries to slow down the thoughts rushing through his mind. He wants to tell her all his fears, every single one. But her eyes are so clear and wide and so obviously concerned about how he feels that he can’t tell her everything. It wouldn’t be fair. “I’m really happy for you, and proud. Tess, I’m so proud. I definitely think you should do it. It would be crazy not to.”

She doesn’t respond, just continues to watch him, reading the truth on his face. “But?”

He lets out a breath and takes a couple steps back, exhaling. He starts again, words falling rapidly. “But I’m worried because what does this mean for us? What do we do with the kids and our lessons? Do you even…”

"Hey, slow down," her voice is soft as she takes a step forward slowly. She reaches out and pulls him close to her, wrapping her arms around him. He mirrors her action, burrowing his face into her shoulder. Her voice takes on the soothing tone it used to when he’d get the jitters just before a competition.

"You know I want to continue teaching with you. And I’m still very interested in coaching, just not yet. I’ll be in England for four or five months tops. You can even come and visit me. You better visit, actually.”

This place, this world of solace they create around each other, is so hard to explain. They’ve tried countless times, but in the end, they barely understand it themselves. Scott absorbs the sincerity behind her words, his whirling thoughts settling. All the preparing he did, anticipating that she was going to leave eventually, did absolutely nothing to protect him from the rush of emotions he’s experiencing. This is a type of vulnerability that he cannot tolerate and will work hard to protect against in the future.

Eventually they pull apart and Scott gives her a shadowy grin, trying to be reassuring. She can read straight through it though and frowns in reply.

"I won’t go, if you don’t want me to," she whispers and suddenly they’re kids again, sitting on the swings and she’s telling him she won’t try out for the national ballet if he doesn’t want her to. Immediately he knows that he can’t deny her this. Never in his wildest dreams.

He shakes his head vehemently and places his hands on her shoulders, absolute refusal. “Nope. No. Tessa you want this. You should go.”

Her eyes trace the features she knows so well, better than her own. Her fingers are wrapped around his wrists, thumb rubbing his hand absently, picking up hints of his pulse. “Are you sure?”

"Positive." They both know what that word means. Not quite, but I’ll get there.

"I need you to promise me, that if this becomes a problem, you’ll tell me."

He nods, sliding his right hand over her shoulder and up her neck, his thumb grazing her cheek. He leans forward and kisses her on the forehead and pulls back slowly, his eyes on hers. “I promise.”

When they return inside the cake is being brought out and everyone is gathering at the bar. She parts from him to join her parents, but even as she does so, he can still feel her gaze on him, watching from across the way. When his mom and aunt blow out their candles and cheers go around, he yells and claps and displays cheer he doesn’t feel.

Inside, he feels like part of him is slipping away.

 

.::.::.::.


	7. seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whether she wants to admit it or not, their lives aren’t following the same course.

.::.::.::.

It’s not until after the fourth stop on the tour that Tessa starts to breathe easy. After submitting her paper she collapses in an exhausted heap on her hotel bed, completely ignorant of the celebratory planning occurring three doors down the hall.

"Are we dressing up? We should dress up," Kaitlyn says as Scott makes a displeased face.

"Ten bucks says we end up dancing on tables by the end of the night," Jeff mutters as Andrew nods in agreement.

"Dancing! Yes! Dancing. We should do that too," Joannie says, receiving a high-five from Kaitlyn and a nod from Meagan.

"Guys, slow down," Scott holds up his hand, jotting down all the options on a hotel notepad. He pulls the pen cap out of his mouth and looks around at all their friends discussing possible options, feeling overwhelmed. When Kaitlyn checked on Tessa earlier, she reported that an airplane could have landed on her back and she’d continue to sleep through it. Understandable, all things considered.

"Maybe we should put off festivities until tomorrow," Scott poses to the crowd at large.

A clamoring of ‘Nos’ causes him to sigh and return to the notepad. “Okay, here’s the plan. Dinner at that place on the water, it’s like two blocks from all those clubs if dancing become a reality.”

"Ha, if? IF?” Kaitlin smirks at Andrew and Scott. “I’m sorry, Scott, how long have you known Tessa? Like she isn’t going to want to dance.”

Chiddy looks over at Scott and shrugs, nodding his head. “You know they’re right. Accept it now.”

Scott frowns. Tessa hasn’t had anything to drink in weeks. She’s going to be a hot mess by her third drink. He looks out the window, storm clouds are moving in, darkening his already glum spirits. He’s always been prone to fluctuations in mood, mainly when he’s skating though. It’s leveled out in the past year, but since Tessa dropped her news, he’s been more taciturn than ever.

Today is their off day and they travel to the next city tomorrow. He’s glad for this, because he doesn’t think he’d have been able to sit through another meet and greet. It is such a great feeling, seeing and talking with their fans, receiving their gifts and posing for pictures. But it’s also another extended period of time that he has to sit next to Tessa, feeling her foot absently bump his when she crosses her legs, the arm touches when she laughs, the soft smiles that feel like daggers. He doesn’t want to be near her. If she’s going to leave, he’d rather she just pack her bags and take off once they get back from tour. Not drag everything out for another three months.

He never thought he’d hurt like this. It’s worse than his worst break up, and that’s saying something. She’s just his partner.

Nothing more.

.::.

When Tessa emerges hours later with her favorite ladies, they exit the elevator in great moods, looking flawless and ready for a night on the town. The boys are waiting downstairs at the hotel bar, watching a baseball game on TV, beers planted in front of them. Tessa walks up beside Chiddy, reaching out to straighten his collar in the back.

"Thanks," he says as he looks around. "Scott should be right back, he ran to the room to grab his ID."

"How’s he doing?" Tessa whispers. Both she and Chiddy have been monitoring his moods, playing interference when he turns sour.

"Not too bad, actually. I think he’ll be good."

Tessa nods, pressing her lips together in frustration. “This is ridiculous. Us, having to reel him in. It was one thing when we were teenagers, but I’m getting tired of this.”

Before Chiddy can reply, Scott struts up, holding his arms out as he grabs Joannie by the hand and twirls her quickly. “Lovely ladies, very nice. I guess they’ll let all of you into that dinner joint.”

Just like that, he turns on the charm and leaves Tessa and Chiddy walking at the rear with their fingers crossed. God, she shouldn’t have to do this. She shouldn’t have to feel responsible for her mercurial partner. But she does, because she is to blame for this. Indirectly at least.

They’re seated at a long table at the restaurant, with Tessa sitting a little off center while Scott sits at an end. This isn’t unusual, they tend to sit away from each other on tour if only to soak up the presence of now dear friends whom they haven’t seen in far too long. Conversation floats around tea lights and beautiful crystal glasses, joyful and filled with laughter. Several celebratory bottles of champagne are delivered to the table, toasts to another tour and a year of hard work and sweat, and finally graduation.

Everything is going pretty great, Tessa is pacing herself, not wanting a giant hangover with the flight tomorrow. She tends to get airsick if she imbibes too heavily the previous evening. She feels warm and light and free and it’s such a great feeling, being with these people. Andrew for some odd reason, is on a roll that night, making her end of the table laugh incessantly. A stomach ache will be inevitable if he keeps this up.

Casually, she tracks how frequently the waitress goes to Scott’s end of the table, delivering yet another round of drinks. Chiddy is matching him drink for drink tonight, so it appears she’s on her own if things get out of hand. Awesome..

In the meantime, she’ll continue to laugh and enjoy her friends, ignoring the sense that the shit is about to hit the fan.

Which it does.

.::.

En route to the club, their group is loud and jovial, enjoying their champagne buzz and good spirits. True to form, Tessa slips on a curb because her heels are stupid high and she’s the most graceful clumsy person known to man. Jeff puts his arm out to steady her quickly, laughing at her walking skills.

"Been doing this long, Virtue?"

"No, no. Just learned how to walk yesterday. It’s all a challenge," she smiles up at him, but frowns when she hears Scott.

"Told you she’d be a hot mess," Scott says to Chiddy in a mock-stage whisper.

"She’s not even," Chiddy replies, glancing at Tessa who turns to glare at Scott. "She’s fine. See?"

Scott shakes his head to clear the drunk fog. “Whatever. Tessa, I’m not babysitting you tonight, so you know, just - don’t do stupid things or whatever.”

"Oh no," Chiddy mutters as Jeff raises his eyebrows at Scott. "Everything was going so well."

"Hey, Scott how about we go —" Jeff starts, taking a step toward Scott.

"Actually, don’t worry about it," Tessa interrupts, stepping between them. "I need to talk to Scott anyway. Go on ahead. We’ll catch up in a few minutes."

Jeff and Chiddy both look like they’d rather stay, but Tessa waves them off, turning to Scott. Crossing her arms, she watches him take a seat on a nearby bench, laughing. It infuriates her.

"What’s so funny?"

Scott keeps laughing, giggling even. The more he laughs, the angrier she gets. “Your face, right now. Ah, geez. Lighten up Tessa. God. You’re such a stick in the mud.”

He’s called her this before. And yet, a stick she remains. “Are you finished?”

"Sure, sure. Are you?"

She nearly growls in frustration. Arguing with him when he’s in this state is like trying to pull hens teeth. “What is your problem?”

"Nothin. I’m fine. Just peach-y," he over annunciates the last word, framing it with his hands.

"Oh, so you don’t need to babysit me?" Tessa’s lips thin, disgruntled. "Since when have I needed a babysitter?"

Scott shrugs, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees and look at the ground. “I dunno - that one time when we were at that thing and that guy kept hitting on you and you ended up making out with him in the corner and —”

"I was seventeen!" Tessa huffs, placing her hands on her hips.

"Yeah well, you know. I just don’t want to deal with… that kinda thing."

"No one’s asking you to," she replies, frowning. "This is a night to celebrate and be happy. Why are you being like this?"

"Why are you being like this?" he parrots back at her, mockingly. He knows it pisses her off when he does it. Sure it reduces him to a petty twelve year old. Most arguments do.

"You’re acting like —" she cuts herself off, looking away and shaking her head.

"Like what?" He stands unsteadily and takes a step closer, leaning his head into her field of view. "Like what, huh?"

"Like I’m breaking up with you or something." She regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth. She hates confrontation. It takes her months to build up enough ire to be even remotely formidable. Once she does though, she’s a force to be reckoned with.

Scott scoffs, eyebrows darting upwards. His laugh is mirthless, his voice is harsh. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.”

She turns back to him in disbelief, cheeks turning pink in anger. “Don’t flatter myself? DON’T FLATTER MYSELF? Are you serious right now? Scott, what the hell? You promised me, you promised, that if my leaving was a problem, you’d tell me.”

He rolls his eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Instead, you shut yourself off and become this moody person that no one knows how to handle.”

"Me? What about you? You’re doing the same thing!" He’s practically yelling now, chest puffed up in aggravation.

Tessa steps backwards, brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

"You don’t talk to me unless we’re on the ice, and even then, it’s all business. It’s like you don’t even want to be here."

"I stopped talking to you because every time I tried to start a conversation, you gave me monosyllables or acted bored with me. So I gave up."

"You gave up?” He says the words like he could wad them up and drop them in an empty trash can. “We promised to never give up on each other. I know you’re leaving and all, but…”

"Yeah, well we also promised to always be honest with each other when it comes to our skating and look where that’s gotten us."

"What…" Scott stops pacing for a moment, feeling very sober all of a sudden. "What do you mean?"

"Do you even want to skate with me anymore?" Her voice cracks and it makes her stop to swallow the lump in her throat. "Because I honestly can’t tell."

Pricking him like a pin, her words cause him to deflate and take a step back. He watches as she struggles to maintain her composure, knowing he has less than two minutes before she walks away to go cry alone. Crying. On tonight of all nights. She should be celebrating. Not standing out here, arguing with him.

"Do you really think that?" His voice is soft, trying to keep her tears at bay.

"We were fine three weeks ago, but ever since I told you I was leaving, you’ve been so…" she peters out, at a loss for words. "It’s been really hard the past couple weeks and you… Scott, I needed you. But you just pulled away and… what right do I have anymore? It’s not like our careers still depend on how we feel about each other. Everything we do now is just because… because we enjoy it."

Scott chews his lip as she talks, feeling worse with each passing moment. He’s been such an asshole lately and she put up with him the whole time. He sits back down on the bench, watching someone parallel park across the street. He realizes when she lets out a loud sigh that he’s been quiet too long and she thinks he’s not going to respond.

He wants to tell her everything. He wants to tell her that he doesn’t want her to leave, because it’s the beginning of the end of them. That he keeps seeing her ten years from now, important and beautiful and smiling at her wonderful husband and their 2.5 kids. That she’ll send him a stock christmas card with all their damn faces and matching outfits. Or maybe she’ll be across the world, working some fancy job with an outrageous apartment, casual lovers and a doorman that saves his best smile for her. Or maybe… or maybe.

Instead, he wants to make her angry at him. So angry that she just cuts him off and he doesn’t have to see what shape her life takes without him. Because whether she wants to admit it or not, their lives aren’t following the same course. Running calls at the fire station and rescuing cats from trees, sitting in a chair on the weekends and bickering on a sports show, riding in a truck with Norma Jean — it’s not impressive or flashy. It’s him.

But then he glances up at her and sees his entire life wrapped up in another person, despite everything he’s done to create his own. He can’t deliberately hurt her anymore than he could cut off his own foot. She’s a part of him, whether he wants her to be or not.

He looks up when she starts walking away, back towards the hotel.

"Tessa," he calls out and she stops, but doesn’t turn. "I do… wanna keep skating with you."

She looks down, kicks a rock on the sidewalk as she exhales. Her voice is hard when she speaks, like it’s the last hurrah before her throat closes up. “Then maybe you should act like it.”

When she gets almost a block away, he rises from the bench and follows her back to make sure she gets to the hotel safely. He hates himself a little bit more every time she swipes tears away from her face.

.::.

He slides into the seat across from her at breakfast, bumping her knee with his as he places a chocolate milk and a chocolate-filled croissant on the table in front of her. She looks at his peace offering for a moment, then up at him as he gives her an apologetic grin.

"I swear on that croissant and all the chocolate milk in the land, that I will be okay with you leaving. It’s taking longer than I thought. I do apologize for my attitude though. I’ve been in a shitty mood and you… and Patrick, shouldn’t have to deal with that. I just… I didn’t think…" his throat starts getting scratchy so he stops.

"I’m scared too, you know," she confesses, getting to the root of the problem. "It’ll be a change. Probably one that needs to be made, though. I mean, even now, we don’t go more than two weeks without seeing each other."

"Does that make us weird?"

The corner of Tessa’s mouth raises. “I thought we stopped caring if we were considered weird when you were in grade nine.”

Scott runs his hand up his face, scratching his head. “Yeah, well.”

They fall into the tricky silence of a cease fire for a few moments. Worrying the corner of her lip,Tessa reaches inside her bag and pulls out a folded piece of paper and hands it over to him. While she starts into her croissant, he unfolds the paper and scans the contents. Looking between it and her, he shakes his head, torn between surprise and indignation.

"You bought me a ticket to London?"

Tessa demurely sips her chocolate milk from a straw, nodding. “Chiddy and I figured if we scheduled it for the very end of October that you’d have enough time to make arrangements at work.”

"You didn’t need to buy me a ticket, though."

"Yes I did." Her tone is even and assured. "How else would you understand that I want you to come visit me?"

He weighs her words and it strikes him that this isn’t a casual invite, this is a serious gesture on her part. She’s not trying to erase him from her life, but is creating another way for him to be in it. This is a welcoming for him to have a small part in the next adventure she embarks upon.

Unlike Scott, Tessa’s never been inclined towards the over-the-top, the grandiose. But when she wants to get the point across, she’ll stop at nothing until her intentions come across clearly.

"Chiddy wants to come too. We were thinking you two could fly into London and stay with me for a few days, then hop on a plane and head south for a week or so."

"You’re coming with us?" Scott arches his eyebrows, intrigued.

"No, no. Let you two have your mancation together, bro it out or whatever." Tessa runs her fingers through her hair, rolling her eyes at him. He watches as she swiftly pulls her hair up into a bun, getting ready for the bus ride to the airport.

"You’ll note that it’s a one-way ticket. That’s primarily because I have no idea where you two are going to end up. As long as it’s not in some jail in Spain or a bordelo in Italy, you’re good."

When she has nothing left to occupy her, she remains fidgety across from him, watching as he stares at the ticket, deliberating. When she starts wiggling her foot back and forth he decides to put her out of her misery.

"I’d have come you know," Scott slides out from the table and pushes in his chair, Tessa doing the same. "If you really wanted me to."

As they walk, Tessa around and walks backwards in front of Scott, giving him that mischievous smile he adores, “Consider yourself warned. This is me, wanting you… to come… and visit.”

He flashes a grin then reaches out to stop her before she trips, grabbing her by the waist and spinning with ease. “Okay then, Miss Virtue, you have yourself a deal.”

Her face lights up in such a way that reminds him why he’s spent the last 18 years with her. It’s addictive, making her happy.

.::.

The last night of tour is one part exhilarating and one part exhausting, they’re definitely running on fumes at this point. It doesn’t matter though, because everyone has been living off tour-invoked euphoria. Ever since their talk, Scott has made the most of every single practice, show, and day out. He’s made sure to enjoy himself, ensuring others are doing the same. It’s important to him that everyone has a good time, but Tessa most of all.

And she does.

They wrap up the show as the very last pair before the group number. Their ending pose is close, the way they like it. When the lights darken, Tessa plants a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth and whispers, “thank you, Scott. This has been amazing.”

He smiles as they skate off the ice, squeezing her too him as he murmurs against her hair. “No, thank you. For everything.”

.::.

It’s a week later and they’re sitting quietly at his place, he’s drinking a beer while she cradles a cup of hot cocoa in her hands. He texted her earlier, bored and still going through tour withdrawals. Also bored, she complied and said she’d be over in ten minutes. When she arrives with two movies and popcorn, he realizes that she anticipated his desire for a low-key evening.

She cocoons herself on his couch with a blanket while he loads the DVD, taking a seat in the armchair next to her. It’s a toss up as to who will fall asleep first, since both are exhausted. But when he doesn’t laugh at a particularly funny part, Tessa turns back to him, and sees that he’s asleep.

She reaches over and takes his bottle and sets it on his end table, then picks up another blanket and wraps it around him. Resuming her seat as the movie plays on, she continues to watch him sleep. She feels an unbidden smile when he scrunches his nose at something in his dream. Exhaling slowly, that familiar sense of warm contentment settles over her and she grins to herself. Then her heart does that forbidden tug and she swallows, biting her lip. Turning back to the TV, she covers herself with the blankets to finish the movie, Norma Jean squeezing beside her for warmth.

The sound of the music on the DVD menu wakes Scott. Pulling off the blanket, he leans forward and finds Tessa’s eyes closed, burrowed under the blanket. Norma Jean is tucked behind her legs, head propped on Tessa’s bent knees. He watches them both sleep for an untold period of time, transfixed by the scene before him.

Eventually, he grabs Tessa’s mug and his bottle and sets them in the sink. He returns to the couch and whispers to Norma Jean,”C’mon girl. I’m heading to bed? You coming?”

All he gets is a huff in reply as she burrows deeper behind Tessa’s legs. “Traitor.”

He glances at Tessa and sees that she’s still asleep, residual exhaustion from their travels having taken hold. He runs a finger along her cheek then kisses her on the forehead, whispering goodnight before walking to his bedroom.

.::.

It’s early August and they just finished with summer lessons. The classes are smaller due to vacations, but they’ve been making great progress with a several students.

"Wow, so you’re going with Laura to Hawaii? That’s awesome," Tessa smiles, but it doesn’t meet her eyes. Scott doesn’t catch this because he’s checking the scores of the game being televised on the screen behind her head. "It’s a… big step."

"What?" he looks down, flash furrow of his brow. "No. She’s gotta go for work. I’m tagging along. Not a big deal. Gonna get a tan, try to see if I can match your surfing skills."

She nods, but it’s not believing. It gives him pause. “What?

"What?"

"I asked you first. What’s wrong?" he’s biting the end of his straw, pulling it through his teeth and twisting. She can’t stop staring at it. She gives him a measured look, hesitant, like what she’s about to say might be unpleasant.

"Scott, I need you to listen to what I’m saying and remember that I’m your friend."

Nothing good ever came from a conversation starting like this. “Okay…”

"I don’t think Laura is a good fit for you." She forces the words out like she’s afraid he’ll throw his drink on her.

"What? Why?"

"I think she’s beautiful. She’s very good at her job and very knowledgable. On paper she’s definitely your kinda girl: loves beer and sports, funny, easy on the eyes. The thing is, she’s got an awful attitude."

"You’re just saying that because she wasn’t very polite to you at that party."

"Which you ignored, might I add," her nostrils flare in irritation. "She makes great jokes, but they’re at other people’s expense. And yes, she was impolite to me — but that’s nothing I’m unused to when it comes to the girls you date. They’re either really nice to me or they don’t bother trying to put up a front."

"I disagree with 90% of everything you just said, this is stupid. Why are we talking about this?"

"Because you’re about to go on vacation with her for a week. It sends a girl a certain signal when you agree to something like that, Scott."

"Whatever. Like you can talk. What about you and Hockey Guy?"

"Steve. His name is Steve. And he isn’t part of this discussion."

"Why not? I don’t like him either. He’s… tall. And… I don’t like the way he looks at you."

"That’s all you have?" She raises her hands in exasperation, sighs, then places them gently on the table, regrouping. "I don’t want to — wait. How does he look at me?"

"Like… like you’re just an object. Like you - like… all he wants is sex from you."

Tessa rolls her eyes. “Yes. That is how men generally look at women. It’s nothing new.”

"Yeah but, he does it a lot."

"Scott." She sighs. "Drop it. He’s a non-issue."

He narrows his eyes at her, but says nothing more. A heavy, stubborn silence settles between them. These are becoming more frequent than he’d like. He returns his gaze to the TV behind her, she studies his face. Her blackberry buzzes suddenly and she glances at the screen, a slight frown passing over her face. Looking up, she bites her lip in contemplation.

"Listen, do what you want. My primary concern is how she treats your family. She flirted with your brothers and ignored their wives, and wasn’t very kind to your mom, who is a saint for putting up with all of you. How you didn’t notice this is beyond me. Just… think about what I said. Okay?"

Shrugging, Scott takes a long sip from his beer as she tosses down some cash and slides out of the booth. “I’ve got to head over to the women’s shelter,” Tessa explains at his puzzled look. “One of the women is claiming her husband tried to contact her and it’s causing some problems. Have fun on vacation. Enjoy… everything.”

"Yep," he mumbles into his hand, perching his arm on the table. He watches her silhouette fade as she walks away, backlit against the sun.

Looking at the empty booth, he realizes she left behind her fleece. He reaches over and grabs it, the subtle hint of her perfume hitting him. Scott gets a flash of a hundred memories all at once, dizzying to a degree, all of them involving Tessa. Her embrace, the soft skin of her neck, her quiet laugh at his less funny jokes, the way her hair tickles his nose. He swallows hard and pushes it all to the back of his mind, to a deep dark corner that is rarely visited.

Three days later he boards a plane for Hawaii.

.::.::.::.


	8. 8.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s starting to think of reasons he should ask her to stay, which means it’s time to let her go.

.::.::.::.

 

Scott receives a pleasant surprise visit the night before Tessa leaves for Her Majesty's Land. He's working a night shift that prohibits him from seeing her off early the next morning. So, Tessa decides to come to the fire station, arriving with brownies. A lot of brownies.

"I still can't get the hang of angel food cake, sorry. But, I made these for your crew members."

"Since when can you bake?" Scott squints at the plate of thick, gooey brownies, gobsmacked.

"Well, I already cleaned my apartment from top to bottom three times and finished packing days ago. After getting weird looks from the people that work at the gym for spending over half a day working out, I figured I should get a new hobby to occupy my time. I guess I don't do lack of structure well." Tessa is rambling. She's very aware of this. Even so, she continues.

"So, I finally used one of those cookbooks your mom gave me a few years ago. I still can't cook to save my life, but I find the precision of baking to be very... gratifying."

Scott stares at her for a moment, thrown by her verbal onslaught. Then he picks up a brownie and sniffs it for good measure before taking a bite. She rolls her eyes at his shocked expression, then produces an additional tin. Before she reveals it's contents, he holds up his hand to halt her.

"Woah woah woah. This... these are very good. For real though, how long did it take you to get the hang of it?"

Tessa doesn't even blink, "Seven batches. My oven is very finnicky. And room temp butter definitely helps."

She removes the lid to reveal oatmeal chocolate chip cookies in the tin. His eyes are as big as saucers. "Cookies too!? Wow, I am genuinely impressed right now. How long for these?"

"Three batches. Burned the first two. You know how I feel about raisins in my cookies, so I swapped them out for chocolate chips. There's one with only two chips in it for you."

Tessa grins as a couple of the guys enter the kitchen to say hi. Though it's not the first time she's visited, it takes the fellas a little while to drop their 'best behavior' in front of her and act normal. They're a little less formal now, but some remain bashful.

"You baked?" Matt, Scott's preceptor at the station, peers over Scott's shoulder. "She bakes too?"

"She can't cook though," Scott warns, watching as Matt takes two cookies and a brownie. Matt is nearing forty, balding slightly, and has a great big booming laugh. He'd also cut off his right hand if it meant keeping a you alive. Scott may or may not have a man crush on him.

"I'm okay with that." Matt devours a cookie in two bites. "Say, when do you get back from England?" A couple other guys enter, smiling at Tessa and reaching over to grab some brownies. Scott slaps at their hands, telling them to thank Tessa before taking off.

"You're welcome," Tessa replies, turning back to Matt. "Uh, just before Christmas. At least, that's the plan."

"That's the plan, eh? Good. I'm going to book the church for New Years. That could be a fun wedding?"

"Oh, are you asking?" Tessa laughs as Matt nods sensibly. "I'm pretty sure your wife might have something to say about that."

"Nah, I think she has a bigger crush on you than I do," Matt leans forward to stage-whisper, "though I have it on good authority that I'd have to fight at least three other guys for your hand."

"Really," Tessa smiles, glancing at Scott who just rolls his eyes at Matt's antics. "I'll keep that in mind for when I get back."

"You better. I know Earl has definitely taken a shine to ya," he winks then steps aside as Scott swipes at him.

"Gross, Matty. Earl is nearly eighty. Get your ass outta here!" Scott pushes Matt out of the kitchen then turns back to Tessa who's shaking her head.

"C'mon, let me walk you back to your car," Scott leads her down the stairs, outside to the parking lot. "Thanks for bringing the cookies, Tess. If this whole school thing doesn't pan out, you could have a future in the culinary arts or something."

"Ha, ha," Tessa smirks at him as she leans back against her SUV. "So a little bird told me you're a single man again."

Scott makes a face, frowning. "My mom?" Tessa nods. "Yeah, we uh. It wasn't going to work out. We want different things, that's all."

"Well, that and Vancouver offered her a seat on their primetime desk. No big deal or anything."

Scott crosses his arms, leaning against the car next to hers. He shrugs and looks up at the overcast sky, evening settling upon them. "She's not the only one transferring, I hear."

Tessa's eyes narrow, giving him a thin smile. "I was wondering how long it was going to take you. Yeah, Steve got picked up by Tampa. I think it was the signing bonus that sealed the deal."

"Still... Florida?" Scott watches her for a moment. "He didn't... he didn't ask you to come with him, did he?"

Tessa doesn't meet his eyes and shrugs in response. "Doesn't matter whether he did or didn't. My path is leading in a different direction."

"Ouch. Did you make him cry?" Scott grins at her. "You made him cry didn't you? How could you be so heartless!?" he intones, mimicking Kanye.

Tessa leans forward and pushes him in the arm, mock-glaring at him. "Oh stop. You are the worst!"

They fall into a silence that is slowly filling with things they want to say, but never will. Tessa decides to leave him with a parting thought, breaking the silence.

"Hey Scott," Tessa is picking at her nails, looking at the ground. She looks up at him and clears her throat. "Make sure the next girl is a good one, okay?"

His brow furrows, unsure of where this is going. "A good one? What would make her a good one?"

This flusters her a little and she breaks eye contact again, thinking. "She needs to be smart and quick on her feet because she has to keep up with you; she needs a good sense of humor, she... needs to challenge you - maybe not have all the same interests as you, oh, and make sure she's kind and sweet to your family; and... if Norma Jean doesn't like her then you know she's no good."

Scott grows more amused as she talks, grinning at her by the end. "So my dog should decide who I date?"

"Yes," Tessa nods. "Definitely. She has more sense than you." The corner of her lip rises with her quip. "It should be easier without..." she exhales, "you know. Without me hanging around and everything."

Choosing to remain silent around a topic that has resulted in countless heated discussions, Scott shoves his hands in his pockets and changes topics.

"So uh, when me and Chiddy come out in October, you better show us a good time. Don't forget, we gotta go back to that one pub we went to last time we were there. I'm pretty sure I can drink my way to that silver beer mug this time."

"Yeah, that or alcohol poisoning."

"Nah, I'll prepare accordingly," Scott pats his stomach grinning. He's starting to think of reasons he should ask her to stay, which means it's time to let her go.

Without another word, he holds open his arms and she steps inside his embrace. This is the most comforting position to either of them, one that quiets the world around them, tempers the anxiety, the negative thoughts, all the uncertainty. He breathes her in deeply, feeling her do the same, their breaths syncing to a compatible rate with their hearts.

"You're gonna be great out there. Gonna have so much fun, meet all these new people, sit in all these old, dusty libraries, reading. You're gonna eat some awful food and make some good choices, and one or two bad ones. Just... Don't forget us out there."

Tessa smiles, pressing her lips against his shoulder. "Don't forget me either."

She pulls back and gives him a watery smile. "I know you're not going to email me, but I'm still going to text you."

"Oh, the really long ones, that should've been an email?"

"Hey, a girl's gotta be resourceful." She swipes at a tear and holds out her hand the same time as him, doing their secret handshake. "This is dumb. It's not like I'm leaving forever. Have a good time while I'm gone, kick ass playing softball, and... Yeah I'm gonna go."

Scott smiles at her, she hates goodbyes even more than he does. But, just because he likes being a pain in the ass, he ropes her into one more hug, the type where she's buried against his chest, swaying back and forth in an exaggerated fashion. When she starts growling at him in frustration he releases her, smirking as she sighs at him, rolling her eyes. Climbing inside her SUV, she waves at him one last time before driving away.

As soon as she's out of the parking lot, he lets the smile fall from his face. He can do this.

He has to.

.::.

September

.::.

A couple days after Tessa leaves, Scott meets an elderly gentleman by the name of Tom. He's recently widowed and has taken to calling rescue for concerns that have very little to do with aid and more to do with loneliness. When Scott's truck arrives, Tom's sitting on his front porch with a foul-mouthed African Grey Parrot perched upon his shoulder.

With Matt's assistance, Tom heaves his frail body off his rocking chair then gives Scott an unimpressed look. Jerking his thumb at him, he looks at Matt and says, "Where'd you find this guy? He looks like an asshole."

Matt bites his lip to keep from laughing as Scott's jaw drops. "Come on Tommy, what's going on today?"

As Scott follows them inside, he spends the rest of the visit being called an 'asshole' by the Parrot and receiving pokes in the leg from Tom's cane. While Matt talks to Tom, Scott scans the small, well-kept home. It's unique to say the least. Tom used to be a merchant marine and has artifacts and treasures from around the world, along with a crazy story for each one.

To distract Tom from a current non-existing malady, Scott asks him about the large wooden chest in his living room. Tom's eyes light up as he gives Scott a crooked smile, launching into a twenty minute story that would make for a great movie. It's a good visit. The first of many.

.::.

Over a week later, Scott receives a text from Tessa:

Skype?

Scott hops on his computer soon after, smiling when he sees her face. "What's up kiddo?"

"Hey, how's it goin? Not too late is it?" Tessa looks at her wristwatch, counting back the hours to Scott's time zone.

"Nah, I'm at the station. I'm picking up extra shifts in preparation for 'Chiddy and ScottyMo's Mancation 2015.'" Scott frames the words with his hand as Tessa laughs. "Enough about me though, how is it?"

Tessa's expression is one part overwhelmed and one part exhaustion. "It's… it's different. It's everything and nothing I thought it would be."

Scott's eyebrows draw together, confused. "How so?"

"For starters… I knew I was going to be in more of a communal living situation at the onset. It's this grand old flat in a decent location. The catch is that I have six roommates — well seven if you count Antonio's girlfriend. Not all are students, and none of us are from the same country. Only two of us are native English speakers. It's insane."

"Seven?! Seven roommates? Do you have to share a room?"

Tessa shakes her head, "Thankfully no. But my room is tiny. Like… I've developed a very strategic storage system."

"Bet it hasn't stopped you from shopping though," Scott sips his steaming coffee.

"Of course not. I'm actually saving up. Me and two of the girls here, Aimée and Elise, are going to Paris next weekend."

"You're taking an empty suitcase, aren't you?"

"Maybe…" Tessa's grin is borderline manic. "Hey how's your brother? My Mom told me she ran into Danny the other day at the grocery store. Did he really fall off the roof?"

"Yeah. Dumbass slipped. Didn't break anything, but he's real sore. I'm going to help out over the next couple weeks though."

"That's pretty generous of you," Tessa observes, her tone turning facetious, "eh, it's probably just a ploy to rope you into his business."

Scott smirks at her. "Oh yeah, definitely. He always falls off roofs when he wants help at work."

"Knew it. But you like that kind of stuff anyway. You've always been good with your hands."

"Don't you know it." Scott waggles his eyebrows at her unintentional innuendo. "You're right though. I do. Me and Paul are talking about teaming up with a couple other guys and flipping a house."

"That could get interesting," Tessa frowns. "And expensive. Make sure you have an endpoint in what you're willing to invest."

"We're just in the talking phase. Nothing definite," Scott leans back and sighs. "You homesick?"

Shrugging, Tessa looks down for a moment, "Yes. But I have so much going on, I try not to think about it. My classes are just now getting underway. And I like them, it's just… different than how it all is back home."

"Different as in harder or what?"

"It's graduate school. A lot of what I do now is autonomous, self-driven. The research I do this year will be the basis for the rest of my degree. It doesn't help that I'm in a combined degree program, so there's no set format for what I'm doing."

"Like design your own degree plan?" Scott considers it for a moment. "I dunno. I feel like that's something you'd enjoy. You've always struck me as more of a trailblazer than someone who likes to stay in a mold."

Her returning smile is one of warmth, the kind that he can feel, even through a crappy web feed. "Yeah, well. I've only finished the first week. Let's see how I'm doing come December."

"Eh, you'll be good. No doubt on my end, whatsoever," Scott replies matter-of-factly. Before he can say anything more, a loud beep sounds on the intercom system. "Sorry Tessa, duty calls."

"Be safe, Scott."

"Yes'm." He salutes her. "Night Tess."

.::.

Tessa doesn't want to be here. "You know, I think I'm going to head back," she says to Aimée, one of the girls with whom she's become very close in that short period of time.

"Aw, No! You must stay," she grabs Tessa's hand and pulls her through the undulating crowd of socialites, urbanites, hipsters, and too-poor-to-be-posh young adults. Aimée's rope of golden hair lures Tessa onward, her musical laughter a siren's call. When they reach the table with questionable drinks, Aimée sniffs at several bottles of liquor before deciding on one and starting to mix a concoction into two cups.

"Tessa," the way Aimée says Tessa's name reminds her of Jessica, Scott's first serious girlfriend. Aimée is half-Belgian, half-Scottish and her accent is confusing at best. "Elise and I are worried about you. All you do is study and go to class or the shelter. You need to get out!"

"I get out! I go to dance." Tessa frowns. "You know I had that paper due yesterday. It sucked the life out me. I swear, I'm good."

"Ah yes, okay okay," she hands Tessa the cup. It's surprisingly delicious. "Only drink one of these. Don't let anyone touch it and don't set it down."

Alarmed, Tessa scrutinizes the crowd. "Is there something you know that I don't?"

"No, just be safe." Aimée grabs Tessa's hand and weaves through other dancers to their other roommate Elise. Where Aimée is fair and blonde and willowy, Elise has olive skin and the dark hair of one who grew up on the Mediterranean. From Cypress, she's doing a master's in international finance at the London School of Economics, and possibly one of the smartest people Tessa's ever met.

"How do you feel about Germany?" Elise asks the two girls, sipping her own drink. "I've family in Munich and some others that live in the lake country. We should go next weekend."

Tessa considers this proposal and nods before she can back out. Aimée claps and jumps in excitement, while the more mild Elise beams brightly. "This will be wonderful. I can't wait to show you around. Munich is gigantic, but we'll actually be there in time for the end of Oktoberfest."

"But it's September," Tessa's brow furrows. She's starting to feel fuzzy. A good fuzzy though. "Oh, wait. But it actually starts in September, right?"

"Good job, Miss America," says John as he slings his arm around Elise's shoulder. "Oh wait. You're Canadian. Should I give you a bottle of maple syrup as a reward?"

He laughs at his own joke but the girls remain silent, nonplussed. John, hailing from a blue collar family from Liverpool, has a chip on his shoulder a mile-wide and the brains to back it up. He is not Tessa's favorite person.

"Why do you have to be such a little shit all the time, John?" Aimée asks, pushing his arm off Elise. "We were making plans before you showed up, so please, go hit on your next undeserving tramp."

Tessa catches a flicker of hurt in his watery grey eyes at her words before he turns purposefully toward Tessa, lifting his chin and giving her a roguish smile. "Come here often?"

"Ugh, go," Elise pushes at him. "Away! Away from here."

He flicks them off and walks away into a throng of other people. "What is his problem?" Aimée huffs. "He's either trying to get your back up over crazy international affairs, or he's hitting on you."

"I think he wants you," Elise comments sensibly. "That or he feels threatened by your intelligence. Probably both."

Tessa shrugs, not caring either way. She and John have participated in some heated debates in the short time since she's arrived. He pushes her buttons in a way that makes her want to cause physical harm to something, preferably him. That's probably not a good thing.

"Alright ladies, let's make these plans. I need something to get me through the week."

.::.

October

.::.

"Tom?" Scott sticks his head through the front door. "Tom are you home?"

"Get your ass in here, meathead," orders the Parrot. Scott hates that Parrot and refuses to acknowledge it. He swings by Tom's at least three times a week and has yet to have a kind word from that bastard.

Scott enters the kitchen where Tom is sitting at the table, cup of tea and newspaper sitting beside him.

"I made quiche," Scott sets the casserole dish on the counter. "Spinach and cheese. I took your advice and added bacon this time."

'Thanks," Tom replies. He pushes out a chair with his foot, "Take a seat. Stay a while."

Scott fixes himself a cup of coffee and slides into the chair opposite Tom. "What's new in the world?"

"Find out for yourself. You need to read more than just the sports section and the comics."

Grumbling, Scott picks up an unread section and scans the headlines. He loses boredom quickly and sets down the paper, leaning on his forearms and staring at that damn bird. Soon Tom rises and gets two plates and forks, brings the quiche over and they dig in. Tom is a man of few words, unless he's talking about traveling the world; or his late wife, to whom he was married for 67 years.

When they finish breakfast, Tom is recounting the story of when he first realized he was in love with his wife, Lillian. "We were at her family's lake house up north. See, I always used to go around with her older brother. I was always nice to her, she was a sweet girl, but nothing more."

"Then what changed your mind?'

"It wasn't one specific event, really," Tom replies. "Several little things that added up over time. I remember sitting on the dock one night, the moon was out, and the water was so calm it looked like glass. All of a sudden I heard footsteps running up the dock. I turned and saw this streak of white go past me and then heard her splash in to the water."

"Sweet baby Lily was skinny dipping!?! Of course you fell in love with her. She was naked!"

"Hold your tongue, meathead." Tom scowls. "Anyway. If pressed, I would say that night was probably when I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the one for me."

"Really?' Scott smirks. "One night huh? Skinny dipping under the stars and the lure of forbidden romance. Yeah I bet that sure got the mojo going."

"No, I didn't... we didn't have relations until we were married," Tom says quietly. "Which was why we were engaged by the end of the summer."

"Oh, you sly dog, you," Scott grins at Tom, ignoring the damn bird who repeats Scott's words. "How old were you when you two got married?"

"I was 19 and she was barely 18. We got married a week after her birthday. It was a small ceremony. Her brother had his pistol trained on me the whole time, in case I chickened out."

"That's a good brother, right there."

"He was a great man. He passed away... fifteen years come December." He scratches the side of his face, white bristles catching. "What about you, Kid? You ever been married?"

"Ah, nah. Not yet," Scott takes a big sip from his coffee.

"Why not? You're not bad looking, you've got a job, you cook well. You're quite the catch."

Scott beams at him. "Quite the catch, eh? You askin' me out Tom?"

'You should be so lucky." Tom rises from the table and grabs their empty plates, cuffing Scott on the head. "Did you get your heart broken or something?"

Shaking his head, Scott leans back in his chair. "No more than your average 28 year old."

"Why didn't they work out?"

Scott sighs, crossing his arms as he considers. "Lots of reasons. Distance, schedules, incompatibility, jealousy, careers."

"You know, you should think about settling down soon. Odds are, you've already met the girl you're supposed to be with. It's just a matter of time."

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of."

Scott finishes up and takes his leave a few minutes later, agreeing to come by and grill out in a couple days. He heads to the house he and Paul are flipping and grabs his tool belt as he climbs out of his truck. The new windows are due to arrive today, but he wants to clear out some of the debris before the contractors get there.

Paul arrives shortly thereafter and they get to work cleaning, tossing items into the trash bin outside. When the contractors finally show up, both he and Paul are sweaty and tired. Scott runs out to his truck to retrieve some water. On the return jog he slips on some gravel, feet sweep out from under him and he wallops the back of his head on the cement driveway. Utter blackness.

"Scotty? Yo, Scotty. Wake up bro," Paul is leaning over Scott, slapping his cheeks lightly. He sees two of Paul. Why is the sun so bright? Why can he hear the grass growing? God his head hurts. "You scared me there for a second. You okay?"

"Shit, what happened?"

"You slipped on the gravel. Hey how many fingers am I holding up?"

"A lot. Many fingers. Seven?"

Paul frowns, looking at the two he's holding up. "What day is it?"

"Tuesday? Yeah. Tuesday." Scott lies back on the ground, the world spinning in a spectacular fashion. "I don't feel so hot."

"Yeah, this isn't good. Let's take you to the hospital."

"What? No. I'm fine. I'll be fine."

"Scott, you remember what happened to my Uncle? Scull fracture. Slow brain bleed. Dead by the end of the week. If we'd have taken him to the hospital sooner, he might still be with us."

"Geez, Paul. I just hit my head," Scott's stomach lurches and he starts dry heaving. "Okay. Fine. Fine. Let's go. Way to guilt trip me."

By the time he gets seen by the doctor, he's in a foul mood, he's thrown up everything he's eaten in the past year, and his head is killing him.

"Another Moir? How many can there be?" a feminine voice says from outside the curtain to his bed.

Another voice replies, "Plenty. You'll learn soon enough. He's in bed four when you're ready."

He's ready to give whoever a piece of his mind, but when the curtain opens, he slams his mouth shut as the woman reviews his chart aloud.

"Ground level fall, positive loss of consciousness, nausea, vomiting, double vision..." She looks up and stops, flashing a smile. "Hi Mr. Moir, I'm Doctor Mitchell. It looks like you smacked your head pretty hard."

He says words, not sure which ones though. It's not often than he's thrown by attractive women. He grew up with Tessa, for God's sakes. But there's something about this woman... He feels like he's seen her before. She's petite, long dark red hair, and cornflower blue eyes. He seems to be focusing much, much better.

"... After my exam, we'll see whether or not we need to order a CT scan. Just based on symptoms, it would be safe, just to rule out any hemorrhaging."

"Sure thing," Scot replies, sitting up slowly. He grabs the side of the bed, holding on. She reaches her hand out, steadying him.

"Still dizzy, huh? With movement or when you're lying still as well?"

Scott replies, answering a series of additional questions, praying that he doesn't vomit all over her. He appreciates that she slides the trash closer to his bed in anticipation of that very real possibility. Once she's finished her exam, she starts documenting her findings.

"Where's your accent from? It sounds..."

"Georgia," she replies succinctly. She must get this question frequently. "And before you ask, I have dual citizenship. I intend to remain in Canada. Alright, I'm going to get the CT scan ordered, just lie back down and I'll see about getting you something for your nausea."

Four hours later as she's signing his discharge papers, discussing what to do with his head injury and what precautions to take, he can only think about one thing.

"Hey so... since you just signed off on my head and all... Do you, I don't know, maybe want to get coffee or something?"

Dr. Mitchell doesn't even bat an eye, giving him what must be a standard response to this question. "Look, I bet you're a nice guy, and I'm flattered, but I'm here to focus on my work. Also, with the rate your family has been entering the ER, I have a feeling this would be a bad idea. My nurse will be in shortly with your release forms. Have a good day."

He tries to ignore the knowing smirk of the nurse as she gives him his paperwork, effectively sending him on his way.

Crash and burn.

.::.

"Tessa, are you even going to school? I keep seeing all these pictures on your instagram of you in every country but England." Scott teases, propping his arm up on his kitchen table. They're skyping again, but this time it's late where she is. From her appearance, she looks like she's dressed to go out. "Oktoberfest looked fun. I particularly enjoyed the picture with the beer wench."

"Very funny," she replies, taking a sip from her mug. "The way my schedule works out, it allows for me to go somewhere almost every other weekend. Lucky for you, I have a long weekend when you and Chiddy come."

Scott grins. "Lucky for me, huh? I expect big things, BIG for when we get there."

"I just hope the weather holds out," Tessa frowns. "How's your head? Everything better?"

"Yeah, headaches went away after about a week. Tom wouldn't stop taking the piss out of me though. And that damn bird..."

"Did Tom ever finish the story about his ship running aground in Thailand?"

Scott sits up, growing animated. "Yes, it was crazy. Craaaazy. So it's late at night when it happens..."

By the time Scott is done with his story, Tessa is leaning forward, hand cupped over her mouth in suspense. "I can't believe he survived that!"

"You and me both. And then... he was in Cambodia during the Khmer Rouge genoicde," Scott starts on another story, shaking his head the whole time in amazement. "He's old as dirt, but he's as sharp as a tack."

"He sounds wonderful," Tessa tucks some hair behind her ear, bracelets jingling. "I'd like to meet him when I get back."

"Sure, sure. I have to warn you though, that damn bird... Just avoid that thing."

"Noted. It's nice that you spend time with him. It must be lonely, having spent his entire life with someone, and now he's outlived most his family and his wife. All alone in the world."

"I'll tell you what, all the places he's travelled, all the chances he had - not once was he unfaithful to her. It's pretty impressive. He knew her his whole life, they got married as kids, and every time he was away, she waited for him to come home so he could tell her his stories and he could eat her burned food. She was an awful cook." Scott loses focus for a moment, looking off to the side in silence.

"Sounds like they had something pretty special," Tessa's voice is quiet, tentative. "Scott, I –"

She's interrupted by a voice coming from her doorway. "Who are you talking to? Is it that guy from back home? Scott?"

Guy from back home? Interesting.

Nodding, Tessa scoots over as Aimée sticks her head in view. Scott waves at her, smiling, "Hey there."

"Oh, hello," she smiles flirtatiously. "You're coming in a week to visit Tessa? It will be magnificent. You'll love it here. We'll make sure you have a good time." She talks quickly, in constant motion, exuding infectious energy.

"Good, great. I'm looking forward to meeting you," he replies politely. Aimée straightens and says something to Tessa, he's not sure what, but the blush creeping up her neck is pretty telling. Tessa pushes her away, saying that she'll be there in a minute.

"I gotta go. We're going to listen to one of our roommates play at this jazz club. Moral support and everything."

"Ah, such a good friend. Well, make sure you snap hard for me. I'll send you our flight info in a bit."

"Sounds great, let me know if anything changes."

"Sure thing. Bye Miss Tessa," Scott waves goodbye as she disconnects.

Two days later, Scott is working his last shift before his trip. His crew is responding a call at a local retirement community, helping an ambulance that is low on heavy lifters. The patient is rapidly deteriorating and both the Medics climb into the back of the ambulance, asking one of the firefighters to take them to the hospital as they provide care. Scott volunteers, hopping in the front seat and driving them safely with lights and sirens.

Once they get the patient inside, there's a lot of down time as Scott has to wait for the medics to write up their report and turnover their ambulance to prepare for their next call. It's nearly two in the morning and Scott feels himself lagging, so he offers to pick up some questionable coffee in the cafeteria.

It's eerie, being in the hospital late at night. Minimal staffing and lots of long, dim corridors invite one's imagination to go wild. On Scott's return trip, he hears the sound of crying coming from one such corridor. Concerned, he goes to investigate. Of all the people, he finds Dr. Mitchell, leaning against a wall, with her hand covering her face.

"Dr. Mitchell? You okay?" He tries not to startle her, but she takes a step away anyway, hand pressed to her chest. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

She looks at him in confusion for a moment, taking in his appearance. "Are you a firefighter?"

Scott looks at his blue polo shirt with station emblem, blue cargo pants, steel-toed black boots and radio. "What gave me away?"

"Ah, I remember you, one of the Moirs."

"Guilty," he says. "I'm sorry for bothering you, but... you know, crying, dark hallway..."

"I'm... fine," she shakes her head, wiping away tears. "You don't need to stay."

"I have a very good friend who says she's fine when she's the complete opposite, so I'm going to assume this is the case for you as well."

"Seriously, I'm okay. I just... have lots of stuff going on right now. Don't worry about it." Her tone is one that leaves no room for arguing. He senses that she's used to getting her way.

"Okay, well. You want one of these?" Scott holds up the cardboard tray loaded with full coffee cups. "You can have one and... not tell me what's wrong. We can stand around awkwardly until your eyes stop leaking. Could work out great."

She laughs, shaking her head. "Fine, sure. Yeah, I'll take one."

Slowly they return back to the emergency department, weaving through dark halls, quiet except for the occasional question. She asks his first name again, asking if he's the one who's name is plastered to the signs that lead into town.

"Ah yeah, that's me."

"Gold medalist? That's pretty exciting. What did you get it in?"

Scott runs his hands through his hair, "Uh, ice dance."

"What is that? Figure skating?" He goes through the painful experience of describing what he does to the uninitiated. She grows more perplexed as he talks. When he finishes, she gives him the response most women who could give two shits about sports: "Oh, that's... interesting."

At this point, they've reached the department. She uses her staff card to swipe them in through the secure doors and they stop at the nurses station. "Well, you got your wish, Scott Moir, you got your coffee."

He arches his eyebrows, bemused. "You're right, I guess I did."

"Thank you," she says quietly, feeling inquisitive gazes upon them. "I appreciate it."

"No problem, Dr. Mitchell. Have a good night," he turns to walk to the medic room, stopping when she calls his name. "It's Shannon, by the way."

He ducks his head, smiling to himself. "Night, Shannon."

.::..::..::.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sadly, I’m not Canadian. All jokes made re: Canada vs America are not intended to cause offense. I view The Great White North much the same way as Barney Stinson does: a mythical place full of moose and maple syrup.


	9. 8.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She wants to make him remember this moment.

.::.::.::.

"Dude, taking a red eye was not a good idea. We're going to be exhausted by the time we get there," Chiddy mutters from his middle seat. "I can't believe I lost Rock Paper Scissors. Next time, you ride in the center."

"Shhhh, it's getting to the good part," Scott elbows Chiddy as he focuses on the movie playing on the headset in front of him. "Take a benadryl or something. We've gotta hit the ground running once we get there."

"You know, our Mancation is not getting off to a good start."

"Sure it is," Scott hunkers down in his seat, trying to ignore his excitement. He's not sure if it's because he's been working so much, or the vacation, or seeing Tessa, but he's in a ridiculously good mood.

This mood follows him for the next seven hours, through customs, through passport security, all the way to the arrival hall. All the way until he has Tessa wrapped up tight in his arms.

"It's so good to see both of you!" Tessa chimes as she also pulls Chiddy in for a hug. "What's with the scruff, Chiddy? You look —"

"Don't say homeless, it really pisses him off," Scott interrupts as they break apart and head towards baggage claim.

"I was going to say... distinguished. I'm surprised, actually, it's very full."

"Why thank you Tessa," he gives Scott a smug look. "I missed you a lot more than I thought."

They collect their baggage and hire a lift to her flat, located in Shoreditch. The neighborhood is certainly eclectic, though Scott has his reservations about her safety. At least, he does until they enter her flat.

A very large, very dark skinned man with a booming voice greets them as they drop their bags in the entry.

"Ah les Canadiens, bienvenue!" Scott is crushed against this giant's chest, his paw reaching out to pull Chiddy over.

"Hi," Chiddy squeaks once they're released. Tessa is standing to the side, holding in her laughter as Scott backs away, shell-shocked.

"Karim, this is Scott," she tugs Scotts sleeve, "and this is Patrick. Just a warning, their French is worse than mine."

"That will be okay," he gives them a glowing white smile. "Tessa, we're making dinner on Saturday if you and your friends want to join us. Antonio offered to make paella."

"You just want me to be around because I bring the best wine." Tessa glances at the pair who both shrug at the same time, indifferent. "Sure, yeah. I'll let you know if anything changes."

Karim waves as he takes his leave. Tessa merely smiles at the look on their faces and tosses her keys and purse on the counter. "Come on, let me give you the tour."

She shows them to the cleanest of the three bathrooms, the kitchen, the living area, the library (what even?) and lastly, her tiny room.

"Geez, Tess, you weren't joking," Scott sticks out his arms, only a couple inches on either side of him from wall-to-wall. It's long and narrow, with a large window letting in plenty of light.

"So the sleeping will be pretty average. I've got an air mattress and then there is the futon in the library."

"Rock paper scissors for the futon?" Chiddy drops his bag and assumes the position opposite Scott. Best two out of three, Chiddy wins.

"Ha! Sucker. Karma's a bitch," he shoves Scott in the chest as he returns to the library with his bags.

"He lost before our flight this morning and had to sit in the middle the entire trip," Scott explains as he takes a seat on her desk chair. Though organized, there are books of all types filling the single shelf that lines the length of the opposite wall. There are pictures from her recent travels posted everywhere, a couple cameras sitting on a shelf above her bed. "So you live with a giant? That's cool."

Tessa shrugs out of her jacket, hanging it behind her door. "Karim? He's a human teddy bear."

"Where's he from?" Scott fiddles with globe paperweight on her desk, spinning in the chair.

"Algiers. He's here for architecture." Tessa turns and takes a seat on her bed. "I figured you and Chiddy could use some food, then maybe we could walk around a bit, hit up some places we missed last time?"

He smiles at her, nodding. "Sounds good. You don't have to entertain us though if you have stuff to do. Me and Patrick can cause our own mayhem."

"That's exactly why I kept my schedule clear. I do have two classes tomorrow, but I don't think you can cause too many problems in that short a period."

"Don't underestimate us," Chiddy says from the doorway, leaning against it with his arms crossed. "I have a beard now. Who knows what trouble we might cause?"

"Oh yes, we're international men of mystery now." Scott nods, rising from the chair as they collect their coats to leave.

Tessa leads the two of them out of her flat, sighing to herself. "What did I get myself into?"

The trio hop on the tube and go to Bourough Market, spending a majority of the morning and early afternoon snacking on various food items, imbibing delicious brews, and catching up on what they've missed. They make their way out of the market, stuffed and feeling merry. Chiddy and Scott banter back and forth, deciding to do one of those city-tours the next day while Tessa's in class.

"They're so cheesy though," Scott frowns even as he agrees to it.

"No, cheesy is doing that Jack-the-Ripper tour. This is just a convenient means for seeing the city in an efficient manner."

Scott and Tessa look at each other, sharing similar expressions of surprise. "Look who got all fancy once he went to University."

They continue on for a while, visiting Trafalgar Square and walking along Embassy Row. The weather takes a turn for the worse, causing them to return to Shoreditch. They pile into a pub a few blocks from her flat, order a stereotypical meal of fish and chips with a couple pints and settle in as the rain pelts the windows.

Tessa eases back against the booth, smiling at these two goofballs as they tell her about a recent golf tournament they participated in. Chiddy did well, Scott, not so much.

"I'm tellin' ya man, it's all in the beard. I think it balances me out or something," Chiddy scrapes his hands along the scruff on his face, leaning back against his seat. Scott leans over and gives him a knuckle punch in the shoulder.

"I swear to God, if you mention that beard one more time, I'm gonna shave it off your face in your sleep."

Chiddy grabs his shoulder, gasping. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Yes he would." Tessa nods. He did something similar to his older brother Charlie when they were teenagers."

"You're just jealous," Chiddy shoots back at Scott. "It's not my fault you've got that weird patchy pube crap instead."

Scott mouths 'patchy pube crap' at Tessa, who is doubled over, laughing. "Alright alright. I think we've met our limit. Clearly it's time for baby Chiddy to go to bed."

They finish off their meal and make their way back, crammed under Tessa's umbrella. Exhausted, Chiddy and Scott wave at various people they meet within Tessa's flat, all of them blending together. All Scott remembers is brushing his teeth then face planting on the air mattress on the floor in Tessa's room.

Scott wakes to the feel of a cool finger rubbing the bridge of his nose. He cracks open one eye, finding Tessa kneeling on the floor next to his tiny air mattress.

"Sorry to wake you, but I've got to head to class. There's coffee and scones in the kitchen for when you and Chiddy get up. I'll be tied up until lunchtime, so just text me your location and I'll join you later."

"Mmmhmm," Scott extends his body in a languorous fashion, feet dipping over the side. He reaches out and squeezes her hand, receiving a kiss on the back of his in return.

When he emerges from her room ten minutes later, the first thing he sees is two women giving each other a very passionate goodbye kiss. One leaves through the large door in the entry, the other - clad in boy shorts and a very thin camisole, turns around and sees Scott. He tries to avert his gaze because he has no idea who she is, but she saunters towards him like he's a deer and it's open hunting season.

"Bonjour, Scott," her voice has a musical quality to it. She grabs a strand of her long yellow hair and twists it around her finger, head tilting to the side. He's unsure what to say, or do.

"Hi," he offers finally, faintly recalling her. She gives him and impish grin then brushes past, continuing down the hall to her room. He blinks hard, then moves into the kitchen to get some breakfast.

.::.

When Tessa finally meets up with the boys, it's under less than pleasant circumstances. They went to a pub pretty early in the day, in hot pursuit of that silver beer mug. Two absolute idiots singing karaoke are what greet her upon entering what is possibly one of the oldest pubs in existence.

They don't spot her yet, so she walks up to the aged wooden bar and talks to the bartender who looks as old as the pub.

"How long have those two been here?"

"The Americans?"

Tessa listens to Scott hit an off-key note and scrunches her nose, deciding not to embarrass her homeland. "Yeah, them."

"About an hour. But they also decided to go for it," the bartender points to one of the hundreds of silver mugs dangling from the ceiling. "They killed three pints in rapid succession. They've slowed down a wee bit now."

"Ah, that's just fantastic," Tessa sighs. "What exactly is required to earn the silver mug?"

"A pint of every beer on tap."

Tessa scans the twelve-meter long bar, eyes growing wide. "There's got to be at least twenty beers on tap!"

"One keg is down right now, so it's only nineteen. They actually only want one mug, so they're splitting it. Something about a 'mancation'. I swear, you Americans and your made up words..."

Tessa looks at her watch and texts one of her friends, telling him to go on to the rugby match without them. She knew she should have given Scott a heads up this morning. The boys and testosterone-driven athletic events are a very bad combination.

"Is that Tessa? Tesssssaaa! C'mere Tess, come on. You can be back up!" Scott waves her over, Chiddy wobbles slightly, and Tessa rolls her eyes.

By the time they make it back to her flat late that evening she went from sober to tipsy to sober again, doing her part for the cause. The boys plowed through the rest of the beer, both feeling worse for the wear. She gets some greasy food and plenty of water in them and tucks them into bed. Afterward, she wraps up a paper, trying to let go of her disappointment so it won't spoil the rest of their visit.

.::.

Feeling nature's call, Scott wakes early the next morning, his arm wrapped tight around a warm body. With a certain dread he pulls away and finds Patrick on his side, curled up tightly against Scott.

"Ah, God. Not okay. So not okay," Scott mumbles as he rolls off the futon, clutching his head and swallowing back a brief wave of nausea. He sees a bottle of water and motrin sitting on the table for both him and Chiddy. Beside them sits the silver beer stein in all its glory. He's so proud of that thing.

He takes a leak then returns to Tessa's room, strongly considering relocating her to the air mattress on the floor. Glancing at her desk, he sees three tickets sticking out of an envelope. Rugby tickets, to yesterday's match. Shit. He feels like an ass.

Frowning, Scott looks over at Tessa, buried beneath a mountain of blankets and curled up in her little ball in the center of her bed — one leg sticking out. Checking his watch, he knows she's going to wake up soon. He takes a quick shower, and then goes to the kitchen, keen on making her breakfast.

The smell of bacon draws Tessa from a dreamless sleep. Blinking into focus, she spies a cup of coffee sitting on her desk. Glancing at the floor, she sees the fully made air mattress and suspects that the wonderful smell is Scott's doing.

"So, you thought it'd be a good idea to let me sleep with Chiddy?" Scott says by way of good morning. Tessa slides onto a barstool at the island, cradling her cup of coffee.

"Hey, you wanted to be cuddle buddies. Who am I to stop true love?"

"Ugh, you know how handsy I get when I'm drunk," Scott scowls, placing a plate of French toast, bacon, and fruit in front of her. "Chiddy snores, you know that? Like a walrus."

Tessa chuckles as she tucks into her breakfast, rolling her eyes at him. "You looked pretty comfy last night. Holding your mug like a trophy."

"I wanna be buried with that thing, by the way," he replies as he turns to the stove. "So... I uh, saw the tickets."

Tessa pauses mid-bite, eyes glued to him.

"Sorry... about getting out of control yesterday," his voice is soft and sincere. "I had no idea."

"Don't worry about it," Tessa waves her hand as though the transgression never occurred. "I should have warned you. I know how you feel about surprises."

Chiddy enters, looking like death warmed over, squinting into the sunlight. Elise follows just behind him, dressed smartly in tennis attire.

"Tessa, I had no idea your friends were so musically inclined," Elise smiles, stealing a strawberry from Tessa's plate. "I particularly enjoyed your rendition of Tiny Dancer. The air piano was a nice touch."

Tessa is laughing into her hand while Scott gets vague flashes of the evening before; something about standing on the coffee table while Chiddy pirouetted around the living room. He glances at Chiddy who looks like he wants to crawl under the rock from whence he came.

Elise and Tessa chat quietly, agreeing on plans for later that night while Scott makes Chiddy a plate of food. "Want some?" He offers Elise who shakes her head.

"No, I've got a date with my tennis instructor," she grins in such a way that indicates it's a date in more than one way. Tessa shakes her head at her, pulling her hair up into a bun.

"Don't destroy this one, Elise," Tessa calls after her as she walks to the door. "I can't look him in the eyes on Monday if you rip out his heart!"

Chiddy and Scott exchange glances then to Tessa who turns back to her food. The three settle on plans for the day, agreeing to a casual morning and a visit to some of the less touristy spots. Though not quite at 100%, Scott feels great. He's with his two favorite people, taking in the sights, having a good time.

"Hey Scott," Chiddy is staring at his phone, frowning. "Did you take a picture of us wearing those beafeater hats yesterday?"

Eyebrows quirked, Scott shrugs. "No idea, why?"

"Apparently I posted it to twitter..."

"No way, let me see," Scott and Tessa stare at his phone, mouths open.

"That's pretty amazing," Tessa says, scanning down the comments beneath the tweet. "People want to know when you two are getting married. Also, that you two are adorable. Something about a 'BROTP' too, whatever that means. Ah, one person wants to know why I'm not there and if we're even friends anymore."

"Nope, definitely not," Scott quips. "Can't stand your face."

"Knew it, such a shame. We had a good run, eh?" Tessa grins at him, head tilted. He grabs her hand and twirls her around, dipping her slowly.

"Such a good run," he whispers, a little to softly. Her smile falters as he brings her up, both following Chiddy when he starts walking away, immune to their antics.

"We should post a picture and blow up the internet," Chiddy decides assuredly. "It would be pretty awesome, you know."

Scott glances at Tessa who's biting her lip, looking down. "Tess? What do you think? I'm game if you are."

She looks up at both of them and gives them a mischievous grin. "Well, if we're going to do it, we better do it right. Because if we don't take pictures, then clearly... it didn't happen."

Thus begins the journey on the cheesy red double-decker tour bus and how they stopped at every well-known tourist spot in the city. There are pictures of them in front of Big Ben and Parliament, The Eye, London Bridge, The Old Globe, Buckingham Palace, back to Trafalgar Square, each time in poses more ridiculous than the last: prom pose, hands on waists or feet popped with adoring looks, head-locks, the goose, and most importantly: the totem from last year's Olympic Parade.

Sure enough, they break the internet.

.::.

"I can't believe you lot did all of that in just a few hours," Elise sips her wine from her seat at the island. They've just recounted their day to her and Karim, both completely enthralled. "You must be exhausted."

"Eh, it was pretty fun. Though I'm pretty sure that one guard was going to punch Scott in the face," Chiddy says as he sips his water.

"Whatever, like he hasn't had worse done to him before," Scott shakes his head, stopping when the front door opens and the amorous blonde enters, followed by three others he vaguely recalls. Tessa follows Scott's gaze and smiles as Aimée comes up to her and grabs her wine glass, taking a sip as she gives Scott a lascivious look.

Taking mercy on him and Chiddy, Tessa re-introduces them to her the roommates they don't recollect. "Scott, Patrick, this is Aimée," she elbows Aimée to get her to quit staring at Scott, "Antonio and his girlfriend, Celeste," Scott looks at a tall, dark haired man who flashes a smile as he tugs his very short girlfriend along with him down the hallway.

"And I'm Kris," the remaining person sticks his hand out, shaking both Scott and Chiddy's hands. If Scott could describe this guy in one word, it would be pale: straw-blonde hair, light blue eyes, and very pasty, nearly translucent skin. Friendly smile though. "You are Tessa's friends from Canada, yes?"

Scott nods as Chiddy smiles at him. "Where are you from?"

"Estonia, a great country. Have you been?" His accent is thick, but his English is fair.

Both shake their head, "Sadly, no. What brings you to England?"

Kris launches into a lively tale of how he came to England to work as a financier while Karim and Tessa set up the tables for dinner. Not an uncommon occurrence at their flat, several friends they've collected along the way will be joining them for a communal dinner.

Aimée sets to work opening bottles of wine and passing out glasses while Elise and Antonio begin making dinner. Tessa returns to her room for a moment, grabbing her sweater. She turns and sees Scott standing in her doorway.

"What's up?"

"Nothing," Scott replies. "You seem quiet. Wanted to make sure you were okay."

Her eyebrows draw together as she pulls on her cardigan. "I'm good. Just chilly."

Scott nods, watching her closely. "What's the deal with the blonde one? Aimée?"

Tessa leans against her desk, chuckling. "She's harmless. She enjoys getting under people's skin. Kind of a hobby. I made the mistake of telling her I grew up with you, so she's just going to try and lure you into a false sense of security before trapping you."

Scott's eyebrows shoot up. "She sounds... interesting."

Tessa shakes her head. "That sounded much worse than I intended. She's got a heart of gold. But she makes a living studying others and she... she knows how to get to people. She finds the easiest method is by using her sexuality. Not uncommon and from what I've seen, very effective."

"When it's a poor unsuspecting fool, yeah." Scott runs his hand through his hair. "I saw her making out with some chick yesterday morning and then she turned right around and nearly jumped me when she was returning to her bedroom."

Tessa nods. "Yeah, that sounds about right. She enjoys sex as an act but I think she's still trying to understand the emotions behind it."

"Got it." Scott nods as she reaches under her bed to pull out a couple bottles of wine. "Are these dinners pretty common?"

"Yeah, we've had several now. It's always fun but it tends to get overwhelming at times. I think you'll enjoy yourself."

She plays with the button on her sweater, falling silent as he watches her. He leans against the doorjamb, arms folded as he grins slowly, eyes crinkling in the corners. He's missed making her feel unsettled under his gaze, but it's good to know he can still do it. "I'd enjoy myself if you wanted me to sit in here and watch you read all day, you know that."

Rolling her eyes, she sighs as she walks up to him, entering his space. He's been giving her the same look all day and there's only so much she can take before it wears her down.

"You and I both know that there is absolutely no way in hell you'd be able to stay still for more than five minutes." Her words are matter of fact, but her voice has more of a silky quality that slides over his skin. She pats him on the arm and squeezes past, returning to the kitchen.

Three hours later and they've left dozens of dishes and wine bottles behind to go salsa dancing nearby. Thankfully, Scott has taken a break from alcohol, because being sober and witnessing Tessa and Aimée dance together is quite possibly one of the hottest things he's ever witnessed. Then they switch partners half way through and Tessa moves against Chiddy in a way that makes Scott clench his fists, wanting to intervene.

Instead, he lets Antonio's girlfriend Celeste, lead him onto the cramped floor, laughing as Aimée and one of her other friends start cheering them on. Celeste, being from Spain like Antonio, dances very well. But, she's not Tessa. And no one, in his opinion, moves as well as she does.

Two songs later, he and Tessa still haven't danced with each other and he's growing impatient. She's at the bar, talking with Antonio and Kris, both of whom are shaking their heads. When Scott walks up all he hears is, "John's on his way. Hopefully he'll be well behaved."

"Right," Tessa replies, finishing her water. "Because he definitely didn't start that fight last time."

"He was just looking out for you, Tessa," Kris replies. "That other guy was being much rude."

"Okay, fine," Tessa turns away. "Just please make sure he doesn't start anything tonight."

"Who's John?" Scott asks, leaning in to be heard over the din of the crowd.

"The roommate you haven't met yet," Tessa makes a face of displeasure. "Remember that guy Todd who used to hang around the rink when we lived in Canton?"

"Yeah, that dick who was always staring at you?"

Tessa rolls her eyes. "Not quite, but yes. He liked to start arguments over dumb stuff?"

Scott nods in understanding. "This guy John is like that? Want me to straighten him out?"

Tessa places her hands on his chest, shaking her head. "No, he's pretty harmless, and they were right. He does look out for me when we all go out. It's just... it's like he can't make up his mind whether he hates me or likes me."

Scott watches her for a moment, not fully understanding. He's about to say something when Antonio interrupts. “Excuse me, but I think you owe me a dance, Tessa."

Once again, Tessa is swept out on the floor just as Elise and Aimée decide to team up and create a Scott sandwich. It's pretty amazing and he would suggest everyone try it at least once.

When the band starts playing a different song he slips away from their grasp and grabs Tessa's hand, spinning her out and pulling her in. He gyrates his hips against hers, both moving in time with the music as though they choreographed it ahead of time. He leans down and places his open mouth against her neck, feeling a gritty sigh escape as she slides her leg between his.

She bites her bottom lip in such a way that he'd like to glide his tongue against it to sooth the redness, and nearly does but stops just before he reaches her. Because that's what happens. It's what they do. Close, but not quite.

When she looks up and gives him a wicked smile, her hand slides down to his ass and squeezes. He nearly gives in, but she pulls away just in time, pressing her lips against his neck as she moves around him, hands going everywhere until he catches her by the waist. He twirls her around once, twice, three times, dipping her again like earlier in the day, this time with his hand clutching her leg tightly against him.

Clapping and cheers make them both blink hard, straightening. He glances around and realizes that perhaps they put on too much of a show, but it's not like he could help himself. He glances at Chiddy who merely rolls his eyes, holding up a corona and taking a long chug.

"You both realize that this is why I never go dancing with you, right?" Chiddy says as they both join him at the bar. “Show offs.”

"Aw, is baby Chiddy jealous? Do you want Tessa to show you how to dance like a man?" Scott shoots back, trying to cover the fact that his veins feel like they're on fire. He glances at Tessa who is as flushed as he feels. She downs the shot Chiddy ordered for her and gives Scott a shaky smile.

"C'mon Chiddy, I'm pretty sure we can give Scott a run for his money."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Scott calls out as they both return to the dance floor amid the pulsating crowd. He watches from the bar, turning when he feels someone take a seat next to him.

"Oy I hate this shite. Tastes like piss. Where's the real beer?"

Scott turns to see a tall man with light brown hair and grey eyes, three days worth of facial hair, wearing a rumpled up shirt. He's got a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm poking out from beneath the rolled fabric, and a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

Before he can say anything, Kris walks up and claps the man on the back, bidding him hello. "John, this is Scott, Tessa's friend."

"More Americans? Can't you yanks stay in your own bloody country?"

Scott glances at Kris who shakes his head in exasperation. "You know they are from Canada. Be polite."

"Same thing," John downs a shot of tequila then gives Scott a once-over, clearly unimpressed. "Welcome back to the motherland. Having a nice time?"

"Fantastic," Scott quips, looking between Kris and John, the former seemingly prepared to intervene if necessary.

"Cheers mate," John says as he rises quickly, taking his bottle with him onto the dance floor, dancing up behind Aimée's friend.

"Don't mind him. He's..."

"An asshole?"

"I was going to say abrasive, but yes. He's not very tactful. Calls it like he sees it."

Scott nods, concerned for Tessa. He keeps his eye on John for the remainder of the night, displeased at the way he watches Tessa while she dances with Elise and Aimée. The group sticks around for a couple more dances with Scott sharing one more with Tessa before they return back to the flat.

.::.

"You've got to be kidding me," Tessa growls from the doorway. "My bed is hardly big enough for me. Do you really think I'm going to let you sleep on it with me?"

"Well," Scott stretches out to full capacity, gives her a sleepy grin, "we don't have to sleep."

She sighs and tosses a pillow at him. Poking her head in her wardrobe, she pulls out her sleeping clothes and grabs her bathroom kit. Turning, she gives him a stern look. "Don't you dare fall asleep before I get back. You are not stealing my bed."

"Yes'm," Scott replies as he snuggles into the covers. He breathes in deeply, the scent of lavender and soap washing over him, warming him to his toes. Her sheets are possibly the softest he's ever felt and before he knows it, his eyes are drifting shut.

He fades in briefly when Tessa shuts off the light, squeezing past the air mattress lying vacant on the floor. She climbs over him carefully, mumbling about greedy boys stealing her bed, then slides under the sheets between him and the wall. Rolling onto her stomach, she burrows into the warmth, purposefully rubbing her ice-cold toes against his warm legs.

"Tessa!"

"Slide over, my elbow is crammed against the wall."

"If I scoot over anymore, I'll be on the floor."

"Good! Make sure you don't drool on my pillow..."

“Don’t hog all the blankets…”

They bicker back and forth for a couple minutes, their voices softening as sleep overtakes them.

When Tessa wakes, one foot is numb and she's burning up. She pushes up, disentangling her legs from Scott’s and climbing over him carefully, not wanting to disturb him.

Stretching quietly, she goes to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Tessa opens another cabinet, searching for some Earl Grey for herself. Reaching up on her tiptoes, it's just out of her grasp. Lowering to the ground, she's about to get a step stool when a warm presence and a long arm reach around her, grabbing the canister of loose tea and setting it beside her. She tenses, knowing exactly who it is.

"Thanks," she turns, watching as John grabs them two cups from a different shelf. She pours water into the kettle and sets it to boil.

He grabs a banana and takes a seat at the island, pealing it slowly. "Had a good time last night, yeah?"

Tessa nods, uncertain how this conversation is going to go. She's pretty sure he's bipolar - he stays up for days at a time, is incredibly impulsive, and is prone to displays of mania and darkness. Considering the last time she saw him was four days ago, she figures this should be a lovely chat.

Scott jolts awake, that unsettling sensation of falling causing him to stir. Finding himself alone, he goes in search of Tessa to see what she wants for breakfast. Before he rounds the corner to the kitchen, he hears his name and stops.

"...a fire-fighter? How very pragmatic of you. What, were the mounties not hiring?"

"What's wrong with being a fire-fighter?" Tessa's voice is even and low.

"Well, it's not exactly rocket-science is it?" John shoves the rest of his banana in his mouth.

"Having a degree is no indicator of intelligence, as you're well aware. His work is very demanding, both physically and mentally. Not only that, but it's his way of giving back to the community. It makes him happy, which is more than I can say about you."

"Defensive much?"

Tessa frowns. "I don’t understand why you're being so condescending. "

"Can't figure out what you see in him, that's all."

"We grew up together. We have a lot of shared experiences and hold many of the same values."

He starts snoring as she talks. "Oh, sorry. Were you talking? I couldn't hear you over the sound of a tiny violin." A stool scraping the ground causes Scott to tense. "Oy, no reason to throw things. Just takin' the piss."

"Criticize me all you want, John." Tessa's voice is low and hard. "But leave my friends out of it. Scott is one of the best people I know, and I will not stand for you mocking his profession or our relationship."

Scott pads away quietly, hopping back into bed and pulling the covers over his head, because he's super mature and everything. James Bond he is not. He hears footsteps approaching, but they pass Tessa's room and continue down the hall. Scott turns on his side, smiling as Tessa's words echo in his mind. He waits a couple more minutes before emerging.

Unfortunately, he's surprised to find Aimée leaning against the counter, looking at her iPad.

"Morning," he grabs a mug off the shelf and pours some coffee. "Want some?"

"No, I don't drink caffeine." Aimée replies, reading something closely. "I think Tessa wants to take you out to breakfast once she finishes her shower, so you should probably wait to eat."

"Thanks," Scott intends to return to the safety of Tessa's room, but Aimée invites him to stay. Like a man facing a guillotine, he slides onto a stool, giving Aimée a thin smile.

"Do I make you nervous?" Aimée has dropped the flirtatious act, now talking to him like an average person. She's watching him closely, as if trying to catalogue all his expressions.

"A little, yes."

"You shouldn't be nervous," she says as she sips her orange juice. "Unless you have something to hide."

He takes a long sip of his coffee, ignoring the way it scalds his throat. He's suffered through years of Marina's mind games. He's pretty sure he can handle this. Settling in for an enlightening conversation, he squares his shoulders and gives her his most winning smile.

.::.

"So, it's just you and me kiddo." Scott slings his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him and kissing her temple.

"I can't believe Chiddy ditched us. Who knew he had friends out here?"

"Correction, friend. Not friends. He's not that cool."

"Still…" Tessa shrugs, looking up at him. Chiddy took off after breakfast, saying something about a friend just outside of town. If Tessa suspects that Scott told Chiddy to take a hike for the day, she doesn't let on. "So, what do you want to do? It's your last day in London and we've done pretty much everything imaginable. Including get white-girl wasted."

"When did we do that?"

"Well, you and Chiddy did the other night. He even sat on the curb and cried about his shoes. He scuffed his Nikes."

Scott narrows his eyes at her, not fully believing. "Was this before or after our karaoke adventure?"

"You pretty much sang the whole night. I have no idea how you had a voice yesterday."

"Ah, well." Scott shoves his hands in his pockets, casting a look at Tessa. "What do you typically do on Sundays?"

Tessa bites her lip in contemplation, "Random things. I don't think you would enjoy any of it."

"Try me." All Scott really wants to do is spend this day with her, sharing in things she enjoys. He’s not sure how many more opportunities he’s going to have with Tessa, especially after the conversation he had with Aimée earlier.

“Alright then, come along.” She grabs his hand and tugs him along.

Tessa takes him to her favorite places: the used book store in an alley, complete with a cranky cat and benevolent shop keeper; the bright and colorful market full of unique smells and strange wares; the coffee shop with the best coffee (hard to do in London); the park with the best benches for people watching.

Tessa's face lights up when they pass her dance studio - pointing out a couple people she knows as they stroll by. She and Scott laugh their way through crowded streets, debate seriously during lunch, grin at the stories the other creates for people who pass them by. More often than not, their hands drift into the same path, fingers brushing until they absently curl into each other.

When Tessa leads Scott through the doors to her favorite restaurant, he's prepared for some pretentious establishment with uncomfortable chairs and over-priced food. Instead, it's a small, casual place with the menu chalked on the wall, a wine selection to die for, and mismatched china.

It strikes Scott then that even when he thinks he knows her inside and out, Tessa can still surprise him. They stay until closing yet again, and bid the owners goodnight as they opt to walk back to her flat, strides slow and path meandering as she tucks her hand into the crook of his arm. Perhaps if they walk slower, the night will never end. Perhaps it can go on forever.

Sure enough, once they reach her street Tessa stops and turns to face Scott. She runs her hand down his arm as her free hand grabs the other, slapping it in a playful rhythm from their youth. He grins at her, eyes dark and piercing. "What's up?"

"How tired are you?"

Scott exhales deeply, shrugging his shoulders. "Depends, why?"

"One last stop… if you're interested."

Scott doesn't hesitate. "Lead the way."

It's nearly midnight when they reach the Jazz club, the music having just gotten started. Scott orders himself a Manhattan and her a martini, sliding beside her in the small booth, the length of his leg pressed against hers. If Scott wraps an arm around her and runs his thumb in circles on her shoulder, Tessa doesn't mind. If she crosses her legs and tucks her foot behind his leg, Scott merely inches closer.

When the band takes a break and the lights brighten slightly, Scott realizes he's been listening to one of Tessa's roommates the whole time.

"Antonio can play the drums?" Scott turns slightly, their faces close. He watches her lips as she replies, wondering when she applied her vanilla lip gloss.

"The sax too, but they've got that covered tonight." She watches his eyes move from hers to her lips, licking them absently. "He's been trying to get into the London Symphony for the past two years."

His eyes flick to hers, realizing she caught him staring. "No luck then?"

She shakes her head, voice growing raspy. "He teaches private lessons and arranges music on the side."

He's about to say something else, but Antonio stops by to thank them for coming. Antonio returns to the stage and they start their second set, the crowd just as robust, maybe even more so. Tessa gets them glasses of water and less potent drinks, squeezing beside him and tucking herself under his arm.

At some point in time, her hand falls to his thigh, resting on it casually like it belongs there. Her eyes close when she feels him turn his head, his hand reaching up and pulling her hair to the side as he nuzzles her neck, lips caressing favored territory in a torturous fashion. He stops when she shivers against him, breathing quick and shallow.

It's nearly four when the group plays their last encore, the crowd dissembling quickly. Antonio invites them to grab a cup of coffee before he heads to work. They acquiesce, if only because it's too late to go to sleep and both are unwilling for their time to end. They share a cup then bid him good day as he heads up the street.

Eventually they make their way by the river and take a seat atop a picnic table, legs dangling off the side. Silently they agree to watch the sunrise, hands entwined as Tessa rests her head on Scott's shoulder.

It's not particularly beautiful or special, but the quiet of the city just before sunrise is captivating in it's own way. It's a gradual stretch towards waking up, starting the day with a brisk air and a blue-gray haze that grows brighter with the rising sun. Tessa tracks the movement of a barge traveling along the Thames, birds swooping down to catch breakfast in it's wake.

She glances over at Scott who isn't even trying to hide the way he looks at her, wholly, deeply, all encompassing. It's times like this when his eyes are half-lidded darkness and the slightest lift of the corner of his mouth create a heat in her belly and a tightness in her chest that is undeniable. She forgets about all the other girls in his life, in his past and possibly his present, and relishes being the sole recipient of his undivided attention.

She wants to make him remember this moment. That when he goes to sleep at night, he feels her lips on his, that when his mind falls to it's uncommon stillness, he feels her breath against his mouth, her heart under his hand, her fingers in his hair.

Sliding off the table, Tessa turns and faces him, all serenity and lightness. He studies her as she steps between his knees, sliding her hands up his thighs. Scott shuffles slightly, allowing for her to draw closer. Reaching out, he traces the column of her neck, runs his hand along her clavicle, his thumb hooking in the notch at the base of her throat. His eyes are the kind of dark that reminds Tessa of rustling sheets in the morning and lazy Sundays spent in bed.

Her center of gravity always seems to favor Scott, the inexplicable pull of his entire being is such that when she succumbs to the force it's more relief than a loss of resistance. She reaches up and drags her fingertips along his brow, tracing edges and planes until she reaches his lips, underlining them with her thumb. Eyes closing as she leans forward, she hovers for a moment, mouths open and breaths exchanged.

Just before contact she smiles, mirroring his own, then slides her lips against his bottom lip, teeth tracing the edge before slotting her mouth against his, her tongue slipping inside.

Taking her time, Tessa's fingers card through his hair, scraping his scalp, curling over his ear. She doesn't press hard, instead using feather-light touches along his neck, slowly easing into his hold as his hands slide beneath her coat and clutch her hips, his grasp tight and warm. Even when she starts to grow dizzy, she maintains her leisurely pace, breathing against his mouth and somehow feeling more than air entering her lungs when she inhales.

His hands creep beneath her sweater and camisole, gliding against her skin as his fingers climb every vertebrae. She flicks her tongue against his upper lip, biting his lower lip and sucking it gently, soothing it and repeating until he moans, low and gritty.

Heat flares between them, the steady gentle burn threatening to become more. Somehow, she slows her ministrations until her forehead is pressed against his, both breathing heavily, unbalanced from more than lack of air. She feels his eyelashes flutter against her cheeks, waking them both from the euphoria of a sunrise dream.

"I've been waiting all day to do that," she whispers against his mouth. His hands, running up and down her back, come to a crawl.

"Why'd you wait until now?"

Tessa blanks, her reasons seeming silly in retrospect. Instead, she shrugs, pulling her own hands from beneath his shirt. "It seems dumb now but... I wanted to have a perfect day with you, to do as much as possible. Do something worthwhile."

Her voice gets smaller as she looks down at his chest, "All my best memories involve you."

At her confession he remains silent, a stab of doubt causing her to pull away and look him in the eye. She catches a glimpse of unshed tears in his eyes before he pulls her to his chest, hooking his chin over her shoulder and holding her tight against him.

They remain wrapped in each other until a chiming from her purse causes them to pull apart.

"We need to head back," Tessa switches off the alarm on her phone. "You need to be at the airport soon. More adventure awaits you."

He hums in response, climbing off the picnic table with his hand clasping hers. Scott agrees to stop at a bakery for a cup of tea and a baguette, willing to prolong this time as much as she is. When they reach her flat he feels a sudden heaviness settle over him like a dread he's never known. Just before she gets the door open, he reaches around and stops her from twisting the handle, pulling her against him.

Wrapping his arms around her from behind, he tucks his face into her neck, inhaling deeply, that comforting peace creeping into his arteries, feeding his heart. Scott presses his lips against her neck in a way he's done many times before, back when actual lip contact was forbidden.

"Thank you, for all of this. Every. Single. Moment." He punctuates his words with kisses along her neck, stopping at her ear with one last kiss.

If Patrick observes anything but utter devotion between them when he and Scott leave for the airport, he's smart enough not to say anything.

Hours later, Tessa goes to sleep exhausted but cautiously hopeful after her endless day. The opposite is true for Scott, who spent the day feeling like it was a last hurrah. He falls into an uneasy sleep feeling completely terrified.

.::.::.::.


	10. 8.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That’s what life with Scott feels like: the dizzying sensation of constant falling, with the assumption that he’ll be there to catch her and keep her safe.

.::.::.::.

The evening after Scott gets back from his trip, he spends twenty minutes staring at his blank computer screen. He knows this is the best time to contact Tessa if he wants to do it. Problem is that he doesn't know where to start. Doesn't know how to articulate that whatever it is they have between them is too much. Too much.

He just had one day with her. One perfect day. It wasn't boring. There wasn't a moment his mind wandered to what other things he could be doing. He spent it laughing with her, asking questions, engaging her in legitimate discussions, grinning at her quirky sense of humor, bickering over trivial matters.

The rest of his trip with Patrick went by in a blur. Not because he didn't have fun, but because every waking moment was consumed by thoughts of Tessa. Would she like this? What face would she make right now? Would that guy flirt with her? Would she complain less than Chiddy? Would she make him his coffee while he took a shower? What was she doing at that very moment?

It scared the shit out of him.

It makes him feel vulnerable. An acute sense of euphoria coupled with the glaring understanding that he cannot control his emotions and feelings when it comes to Tessa. It's happened in the past; these brief, all-consuming infatuations with her. Sometimes it'll last for a week, sometimes months. It typically ends with her crushing his heart and him killing a bottle of liquor and making bad decisions.

The catch is that it’s never coincided with her feeling the same way at the same time before. For them, physical entanglements never occurred with actual emotional ties, they'd always had the luxury of writing it off on programs or stress or hot damn you looked hot out there; never having to truly account for slip-ups.

But now? Now it's real life. Now it means something. Now...

Now he's not so sure.

He closes his laptop and leans back in his kitchen chair, drumming his fingers on the table. Nope. Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.

.::.

"I can't believe you! CAN NOT believe you," John yells over the din of the crowded bar. Aimée sits beside him, watching the volatile scene unfold between Tessa and John. "You are so fuckin' naive Canada. So naive."

"Why? Because I think I can make a difference?"

"No I think you'll make a difference. No doubt about that. But I don't think you have the slightest clue about how hard it’ll be."

Tessa leans back as though the physical distance can stop his verbal attack. "We have this discussion at least twice a week. You'd think you'd come up with better reasons other than I'm too much of a princess to do actual work."

"Hey, if the slipper fits," he points the neck of his bottle at her in a patronizing fashion. "You think that just because you did a couple months at a women's shelter in the safety of your own backyard that you're qualified to become an authority on world matters? No. It doesn't work like that. You gotta get your hands dirty."

"What do you think I'm even doing here?"

"Hell if I know. Going on holiday and buying clothes?" He points at her new leather coat and boots that cost almost as much a month's rent.

"I don’t believe in sacrificing my interests for the sake of my convictions." She shakes her head, narrowing her eyes. "Just because I enjoy fashion doesn't mean I'm unable to empathize with those women. The two are unrelated."

"Oh? Next time you provide trauma counseling to a refugee or a reintegration training to a displaced person, wear that exact outfit. See how well they relate to you."

"Okay, fine. Then what am I supposed to do? I can only travel as far as my program allows me. This entire semester was dependent on my mentor agreeing to the plan and hosting me at the university."

"Get your hands dirty, Canada." He throws back the rest of his beer. "You won't really get what you're researching and working towards until you go out and see it."

John slides off his stool and leaves without so much as a goodbye. Tessa's nostrils flare as she breathes slowly, trying to reel in her anger. She looks up at Aimée who's studying her closely.

"Do you ever get legitimately angry? Like... throw things, yell, ugly sob angry?"

Arching her eyebrows, Tessa shrugs. "Not often and definitely not in public. I compartmentalize well. As a result I'm prone to... bottling my emotions."

"Such a healthy coping mechanism." Aimée grabs the waiter and orders another drink. Tessa's eyes narrow at Aimée, watching her avoid eye contact.

"You agree with him, don't you?" Tessa frowns, ignoring the strong desire to cross her arms. Aimée reads body language like a savant.

"He has a point. And you know I think you need to come with me to Uganda. Sure, it's not like hoping on a train in Prague, but do you really think you can exact the justice you desire from your snow castle in Canada?"

Tessa sighs in exasperation. "I'm really starting to hate this princess implication."

"You're avoiding the question. You may be idealistic, but I think you are clever enough to put it to good use."

"Thanks," Tessa quips as she finishes the rest of her wine. "Maybe I'm not comfortable with the inherent danger involved and the associated risks."

Eyebrows quirking, Aimée shakes her head. "Then I think you signed up for the wrong program. Maybe you should go back home. Work in something safe, like contract law. Less risky that way."

Tessa exhales, irritated. She doesn't know why she's arguing. She knows she's going to end up going. Selling her family on the prospect has been quite the endeavor, however. Despite sounding completely earnest on the phone, she can’t help it when her concerns manifest in the most inopportune times.

Like in a pub on a Saturday night with an asshole and a realist who will both call her on her bullshit.

.::.

A couple days after Scott gets home from his trip, he heads over to Tom's. Tom had a medical appointment while Scott was away and he's concerned about the outcome.

"How was the doctor?"

"Carl? Ah, he was fine. Used to coach his hockey team when he was a boy."

"Don't play dense," Scott replies. "How did the visit go?"

"Fine fine. He just wants me to keep an eye on my blood pressure. He's going to switch me to a different medicine since I don't like the side effects of the current one." Tom narrows his eyes at Scott. "Enough about me, tell me about your trip. How was that 'lady friend' of yours?"

Tom says lady friend like he doesn't believe in the existence of friendships between men and women. Sometimes Scott doesn't either.

"Good. She's doing great, her roommates are very interesting. It was a fun visit," Scott states matter-of-factly. "After we left London, me and Patrick went to Amsterdam for a couple days, then Brussels and over to Berlin. I think I gained five pounds from all the beer I drank."

Tom nods, still scrutinizing Scott carefully. "What else happened? Meet any women?"

"Nah, no. Patrick has girl he's been with for years and I uh... I wasn't really looking for that."

"Ha!" Tom slams his hand on the table. "I knew it! You're more than 'just friends' with your lady friend, aren't you? Got a little crush on her?"

Scott shakes his head, the grin slipping off his face. "No, not a crush. That's... that's not how our relationship works."

"Oh? Then how does it work?"

"It works by her traveling all over the world doing these amazing things while I stay at home, work at the station and spend my afternoons drinking beer with you."

Tom's eyebrows dart upwards at the brusque tone in Scott's voice. "What's on your mind?"

Scott shakes his head, rolling his eyes at nothing. "I just..." he exhales and turns to Tom. "I've known this girl most my life. She's sacrificed a lot for our partnership, a lot. Granted, we've done amazing things together, but I feel like those days are past and she's moving on without me."

"How so?"

"She got this prestigious grant to do some research in London, which is why she was there. And then I get there and find out that she's going to Uganda to continue the research. Then she's gonna come back and start doing her law degree. When does it end?"

Tom's eyes grow wide. He gets up from his seat and grabs two tumblers and a decanter of whiskey, pouring each of them generous helpings. When he returns to his seat, he lets out a long sigh.

"She sounds like an impressive woman. Then again, you're not bad either."

"Yeah well, our spheres of influence are drastically different."

"And you wonder where you fit in to all this?"

Scott shrugs, taking a sip and relishing the burn. "It's not like this is news to me. I've known it was coming for a while. But mentally preparing myself and actually having it happen are two different things."

They sit in silence for a few minutes, ruminating over Scott's predicament.

"I know this is something you don't want to hear, but it needs to be said," Tom sighs as he sets down his glass. "Maybe this is the end of you two. Maybe you were never meant to go beyond what you already are to each other. Maybe... maybe it's time to move on."

"Just sever ties with her completely? Never going to happen. It'd be easier to cut off my foot with a plastic spoon."

"No, I'm not saying that. But you need to think about what role you imagined her having in your life, and reduce it or switch it out with someone who's going to put a relationship with you first, or at the very least, someone who's going to be around."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Why, because you'll finally let her go and be happy?"

"Who says I'm not happy?"

"You're not happy, meathead," that damn bird chirps from his perch behind Tom. Scott scowls then continues talking.

"But what if I move on, and then she's finally ready to be with me for good? It's not like this hasn't been an ongoing theme for us. Our timing has always been pretty shoddy."

Tom contemplates this for a moment, lips forming a thin line. "I worked with a guy for twenty years who was in the same position as you. And I'll tell you now what I told him then: If she's the one for you, if she's truly the girl you're supposed to be with, then it'll work out some way or another. But don't put your life on hold just because she's out living hers."

Scott frowns, polishing off the last of his whiskey. He needs to talk to Tessa. Soon. He stays with Tom on his back porch for another hour, getting a good buzz going. Just before he leaves, he turns to Tom and asks about his co-worker: "What'd he end up doing, that guy you told to move on?"

"He met someone else, married her, had three kids, eleven grandkids, and has spent the last thirty years with her living about a mile from here."

Scott shakes his head and waves goodbye to Tom. He walks home just as the sun starts to set and decides to wait up until he knows Tessa will be awake so he can talk to her face to face.

Because that's what you do when you tell someone that you should stay friends. You tell it to their face.

.::.

"Wow Scott, rough night?" Tessa smirks at him as she puts a side braid in her hair as she readies for class.

"Ha ha, very funny. Nah, me and Tom got into his whiskey. Sat around bull shitting for a couple hours."

"Sounds like fun," she replies as she searches for a hair tie, moving off screen. "What's up?"

"So Aimée told me you were going to Uganda instead of coming home for Christmas."

Tessa freezes her search and turns to face him. "It hasn't even been authorized yet. Aimée knew I was on the fence about this. I can't believe she said something."

"It was an honest mistake." Scott replies. "She assumed I actually understood your course of research and wanted to know my thoughts on it. Which... well. I didn't have any."

Arching her eyebrows, Tessa gives him a look, nonplussed. "All those times people asked what I was doing, and you never paid attention?"

Scott picks at the pillow beside him on his couch, feeling chastened. "To be honest, it's like white noise would fill my head anytime someone would ask about you. I knew what you were interested in, I just didn't quite... get it."

Tessa watches as Scott stares off the screen, working his jaw before he continues to talk. "I don't know, what's so wrong with Sports Psychology? I thought you loved it. You'd be great at it."

“I think it's very helpful to a certain subset of people. It's incredibly valuable and I enjoy it a lot. It's just… I spent almost a year back home doing a practicum in a women's shelter, Scott. I met these incredibly courageous, resilient women and children who've gone through so much. They've survived wars and being sold into the sex-trade, they've lost their husbands and children, their homes — everything. It's insane." Tessa shakes her head, amazed.

"I worked with a gentleman who used to be an investigator with the UN. Everything he shared about his experiences and all the work that still needs to be done — well, I felt drawn to this program in a way I never have before. I want to empower these women. I want to increase the number of recovery programs in existence for defected child soldiers. I want to help improve the standard of living for future generations."

As she talks, Scott watches how passionate she gets, how her eyes light up, finally absorbing the words she's been saying for months. "So… when you said combined degree — I don't fully get what you're doing. I get that you're coming back for Law School, but..."

"Yeah, it’s a collaborative program in Transitional Justice and Post-Conflict Reconstruction, it's a master's combined with a law degree. Four-year program. I do this part the first year, then combine it with a specific focus for my law degree."

Scott's eyebrows dart upward. "So you're pretty set on this then. This is exactly what you want to do?"

Tessa nods. "I'm about ninety-three percent sure. This research is useless if I can’t do anything about it," she smiles at him as he nods in agreement.

"Why Uganda? Couldn't you have picked somewhere safer?"

"Through Aimée and my program I've got connections there and a lot of work that's going on with the refugees lines up with my field of interest. Honestly, it was either Uganda or somewhere like India or the Philippines."

Scott frowns, neither sound too appealing to him.

"Which... who knows, I could end up going there in the future."

"Is that going to be your life then?" Scott's tone is harsh, but he doesn't care. "Traveling from place to place, righting past wrongs, demanding justice for atrocities committed?"

Instead of reacting, Tessa shuts down. She wasn't prepared for this and doesn't know what to say that will reach Scott when he's in this state. She remains quiet for a moment, watching him, sensing that his agitation is more than just about her career choice.

"What's really going on?"

"Nothing. Nothing. I just... " Scott sighs and shakes his head at her, making a sour face. And suddenly, she realizes what this is about.

"Listen, I uh, I had a great time in London. I did. But I just want to make sure that it doesn't change things between us. We're better off —"

"You know what, Scott? Say no more. Don't worry about it." She holds up her hand, waving away his words. Her chest starts to squeeze uncomfortably. She doesn't want to hear this speech. It's been recycled enough between them over the years that she should get it cross-stitched on a pillow. "Hey, I've got to get to class. Get some sleep."

She catches a flash of regret on his face, but nothing more. "Yeah, sure. Later."

Tessa clicks off immediately, so angry with herself and Scott. She thought it'd be different now that they aren't skating together everyday. Now that they can actually spend time together and know that it wasn't just skating that drew them to each other. Now that they can't blame whatever it is between them on a program or stress and hormones.

She closes her laptop and shakes her head, whispering: "Damnit Scott, I thought you were braver than this."

.::.

Aimée's older brother Henri comes to visit for two weeks at the end of November. Tessa first meets him when she's arriving home after dance one evening, frozen to the bone. Aimée and Elise are sitting on the kitchen counter, watching him cook, drinking wine and singing off-key to a chanteuse with a deep voice.

Aimée beckons Tessa over, placing a wet kiss on her cheek before Tessa sits on a stool at the island, taking in the scene. "Henri, this is Tessa, the one coming with me to Uganda!"

"Ah my sister roped you in as well? She's very convincing." Henri turns to Tessa and takes her extended hand, placing a kiss on the back in a practiced manner. "Nice to meet you."

Tessa grins, "You as well. Aimée has been looking forward to your visit for weeks. She speaks very highly of you."

"Of course she does." Henri tosses a hand towel over his shoulder. "Who else would take her shopping or cook her dinner?"

The two start bickering good-naturedly, allowing Tessa a chance to observe their obvious affection for one another. From what Aimée has shared, Henri is in his early thirties, married to his work at the nonprofit, and generous to a fault.

Save for their dark brown eyes, she'd never guess they were related. His hair is dark brown and wavy, his skin is tan, and his demeanor is more serious than playful like Aimée's. But as their laughter rings out, Tessa see's the resemblance. Musical, with matching expressions of delight, corners of their eyes crinkled and mouths poised just so.

"Would you like to join us for dinner?" Aimée asks as Henri returns to the oven, pulling out a large dish.

"Oh, no," Tessa rises, not wanting to interfere. "I've got to revise my proposal for Dr. Bouchard."

"I heard about that," Aimée says as she twists the base of her wine glass. "Dr. Bouchard wants to take it to the annual symposium."

Tessa glances at Aimée and shrugs, refusing to get her hopes up. "Well she's not taking it anywhere if I don't get the edits done. She said something about meeting with a Dr. Hightower? Do you know who that is?"

Aimée and Henri share a pointed look then to her, nodding. "Yes, she is a powerhouse. She's an American with a lot of money and a lot of humanitarian interests. She invests in non-profits and makes shit happen."

"How do you know so much about her?"

Henri replies this time with an enigmatic grin. "It's a long story. Let me just say that if she's interested in something you're developing, you should be honored. She... she's very selective though. Doesn't suffer fools well."

"Noted." Tessa is uncertain what to do with this knowledge, but tucks it away for if and when meeting Dr. Hightower becomes a reality.

"We have plenty of food, if you change your mind," Henri offers as Tessa gathers her belongings.

"Thanks," Tessa replies before returning to her room to analyze business models for small enterprises and then delve into the horrific history of the Lord's Resistance Army.

Before falling to sleep, she texts Scott to let him know she found his t-shirt when she was doing her laundry. He tells her to add it to her collection.

She neglects to tell him she's sleeping in it.

.::.

Some rule somewhere states that the best way to get over someone is to date someone new. Which is exactly what has worked for Scott in the past and is certainly his plan now.

Scott starts volunteering to take the runs to the hospital whenever his calls coincide with the medics, hoping to have an excuse to see Dr. Mitchell. After the third inquiry after her, one of the nurses takes pity on him and reveals Dr. Mitchell's preferred work schedule. He starts dropping off cups of coffee at her workstation in the resident's workroom, drawing dorky stick figures or writing dumb knock-knock jokes on the side of the cup.

By week two, it wears her down and she seeks him out in the medic workroom.

"What's the deal with the coffee?" Her hair is typically tied back due to work, but today she's in jeans and a blouse, hair down in soft waves. He freezes for a moment before responding.

"You don't want coffee?"

"No, I like coffee," she glances as the two medics behind Scott who have stopped reviewing an ECG and are looking at her. "I just don't understand why you keep delivering it."

Scott rises from his chair and walks toward her. "I thought that would be obvious."

She cracks a small smile, "I thought the point of getting coffee was that you'd be sharing it with me."

"Yeah well, I figured I'd cause you to form an addiction and then make it to where you'd become dependent on my supply."

"Good strategy."

"I thought so," he's returning her smile, both staring at each other. A cough from behind Scott makes him aware of their audience. He forges ahead. "You know, I hear that breakfast goes great with coffee. Especially after you work the night shift."

She rolls her eyes but her smile remains. "That's funny because I'm more of a kegs and eggs kinda girl after a night shift."

"Well, if you're asking..."

"I wasn't. Just stating fact. " She turns and places her hand on the door handle. "Have a good night gentlemen."

Scott spots a mischievous look on her face before the door shuts behind her.

"Oh snap, son!" Scott turns to see both the medics laughing their asses off. "You don't actually think you're going to get anywhere, do you? She's an ice queen, yo."

Scott leans against the counter, running his hand through his hair. "How so?"

"She's been here for over a year. Never gave anyone time of day. I got two words for you: look elsewhere."

"Yeah yeah," Scott frowns as he walks out to the ambulance, preparing the stretcher before he reloads it. Glancing up at the back door of the ambulance, he spots a note stuck on the window.

It lists a nearby diner and a time, signed SM.

Scott grins the entire night until breakfast the following morning. And the morning after that. And the morning after that.

But one morning after a horrific night at work, he skips breakfast and heads straight home from the fire station. Instead of texting Shannon an apology for missing their non-date date, he snaps into autopilot and texts his best friend.

.::.

When Tessa receives a text from Scott, it's almost a two weeks after they skyped. She doesn't spend too much time analyzing why they haven't talked. Doesn't want to because she'd have to face some harsh realities that are more than she can handle at the moment. So she pushes it aside and hopes it doesn't mean they've splintered beyond repair.

you busy?

She looks at her watch and figures in how much time she has before dinner with some friends. Might be cutting it close, but it’s worth it.

Once Scott's face pops up on her computer screen, she immediately forgets about everything else. His face is pale, his eyes are bloodshot and his hair is askew. Something is terribly wrong.

"Scott?" her voice is tentative, like she's talking to a scared child. "What's up?"

"Hey," he's not actually looking at the screen, more like focusing on the corner, chewing on a straw. When his eyes finally meet hers, she grows even more concerned at the crushed expression.

"Is something wrong with your family? Is everyone okay?" She tries to keep her voice even, but he must pick up on her alarm, because he focuses on her quickly.

"No. No, they're good. Everyone's great."

Tessa nods, watching as his eyes float around. His behavior is making her skin crawl. "Then what's going on?"

He shrugs, scrubbing his hands over his face and glances up at her. Finally, he starts talking. "There was a uh… uh fire in an apartment complex. Started at two in the morning. Prelim reports say it was electrical, but I was…"

Tessa feels her heart speed up as he talks, his tone foreboding. She leans forward and watches as words elude him, clearing his voice as he shuffles in his chair.

"I was clearing a floor, it was more smoke and water damage than anything else, really. And, we got in this one apartment and I stepped on toys the second I got in there. And I knew, I just…"

He voice gets tight and scratchy. "They were asleep. In a fort they made in the living room. Two kids and their mom. "

"Scott —" She covers her mouth, completely aghast.

"The dad showed up while we were loading them into the Medical Examiner's van…" Scott's voice cracks and he inhales then exhales slowly, swallowing hard. Tessa has never hated the distance between them more than this moment.

"He works the night shift at the supermarket," Scott sets down the straw and looks straight at her. "I have never... I've never heard that kind of gut-wrenching sound come out of anyone before. He's a big guy, but I swear, he shrunk a foot in the span of a few minutes. It was awful. A complete shit show."

He and Tessa sit in silence for a bit. She's never witnessed something like that before, and between the two of them, Scott is definitely the more sensitive, more prone to emotional displays. It doesn't take away from her ability to empathize though.

"How is the rest of your crew?" She keeps her voice gentle and soothing.

Scott shrugs. "Everyone reacted differently. Some of them just carried on, others broke down. I found one of the guys sitting in his car crying. We don't get this kinda stuff here very often."

"Was Matt with you?"

"Yeah. Matty offered to have me come over for dinner tonight, but... I dunno. I'm not really sure if I can handle people right now."

Tessa nods, watching as Scott clears his throat, swiping at his eyes quickly. She remains quiet for a couple more minutes, listening as Scott talks, most of what he says doesn't make sense and she thinks that maybe he's a little shell-shocked at the moment. After a break, she leans forward slightly, her gaze fixed on him.

"I wish I was there right now, but I'm not the one you need in order to get past this." He glances up at her as she continues. "I think you should go over to Matt's for a little bit. He's been doing this a long time, just like I know you want to be. He can help you figure out how to get through this."

"I know," he whispers, utterly spent. "It's just hard."

"I can't even imagine," Tessa replies. "But it's like you always say: Nothing worth doing is ever easy."

"Don't throw quotes in my face," he scrubs his hands against his cheek, exhaling. "I don't know if I'm cut out for this."

"Slow down, Scott. Take a couple days. Talk to Matt, take a step back. You're not in the right frame of mind for any big decisions."

"I know I know. I'll think about it."

"Good," Tessa offers a weak smile. "I know this is rough, but think about everything you love about your work and the people you work with. Don't let this one event diminish that. Use it to make you better at what you do."

Scott lets out a huff. "You sound like Marina."

"We didn't spend that long with her without having some of her crazy ideals rub off on us, Scott."

He nods, knowing she's right. Scott still feels awful, but less so. "I'm gonna go take a shower, see if I'm up for dinner later."

"Sounds like a good idea. Call me at any time if you need me."

Scott cracks a fleeting smile, nodding. "Thank you, Tess. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She watches as the screen goes black then remains in her seat for a few more minutes, hurting for her friend.

.::.

After a couple days, Scott starts to come around. He took Tessa's advice and went to Matt's for dinner where his wife and two little kids completely uplifted Scott's spirits. Matt took his time with Scott, listened to his concerns and told Scott to take a couple of days and get his head on straight.

Paul calls the following morning, asking if Scott wants to come take a look at another house. They just finished their second flip before Scott left, and both are feeling pretty good about having it as a side business. Paul is business savvy, Scott has construction contacts, and Paul's girlfriend Sarah is a real estate agent with a keen eye for design.

When Scott arrives at the property, he can tell it'll take quite a bit of work, and grows concerned about how much can be done in the winter months. Paul rolls up in his truck and joins Scott on the drive, giving him details and pointing out potential problems. After a look around and a meeting with their contractor, they come to an agreement to put an offer on the house.

Over dinner, Paul and Scott catch up over the last couple weeks.

"So you had a good time with Tessa then? She didn't drag you to Harrods and make you watch her try on shoes, or anything?"

"Ha, no. Nah, we had a great time. Me and Chiddy kept her busy though, but it was good seeing her out there in her element."

Paul, of the potent home brew and questionable douche-bag friends, is a long time friend of both Scott and Tessa. He's followed their career, but more importantly, shared many experiences with the two over the years. Occasionally he considers telling Scott to man up and lay it all out there for Tessa. But something tells him that's happened in the past and it didn't quite work out.

"I've got some news," Paul glances at Scott, a full-blown smile creeping onto his face. "I'm gonna ask Sarah to marry me."

Scott's eyebrows shoot up, mouth slack with shock, then he smiles brightly at Paul. "What!? When?"

"We're going to the lake house between Christmas and New Years. I'm gonna do it then."

"That's great!" Scott beams. "That's awesome. Really. She's a great girl, brings out the best in you buddy."

"Thanks, man," Paul fist bumps Scott, smiling. "I'm pretty excited."

Scott leans back in his seat and watches as his friend lays out how he wants to propose. But as he moves his hands around and grows more animated, Scott's focus starts to fade. All he can hear is Tessa's soft laughter and the sound of her breathing when she lay curled next to him in her bed.

At the appropriate moment, Scott responds. "Sounds like a great plan. I'm really happy for you."

.::.

Tessa arrives exactly thirteen minutes early to dinner with the illustrious Dr. Jo Hightower. Though she looks ten years younger, she's in her mid fifties, with short blonde hair colored in just the right way to hide any gray, elegant with a pair of shrewd brown eyes that will let someone know what's being said is absolutely stupid without having to utter a word. Tessa imagines her to be the love child of Miranda Priestly from the Devil Wears Prada and Clare Underwood from House of Cards.

Steeling herself, Tessa approaches Dr. Hightower. The woman is perusing a file but senses Tessa's presence, holding up a hand to indicate she's aware and to hold for a moment. When she shuts her file, she removes her glasses and scrutinizes Tessa in a disconcerting way that is reminiscent of Marina.

"Do you like meat?"

Tessa's eyebrows shoot upwards, thrown by the question in place of a greeting. "Yes."

Dr. Hightower flashes a smile that indicates she's passed some test. "Excellent. I don't trust vegetarians. Come, there's a restaurant at the top of hotel that serves fantastic filet mignon."

They walk toward the elevators, selecting one at the end that has special access to the restaurant. Tessa takes in her appearance, noting the exceptional quality. Everything screams affluence and Tessa isn't quite sure how to reconcile that with the human rights advocate she created in her mind.

They are seated quickly at a window, a breathtaking view of the city briefly distracting Tessa from the circus going on in her belly. When she pulls her focus away from the view, she finds Dr. Hightower watching her. It's a mental catalogue she's building; taking in what draws Tessa eyes, what keeps her attention. This is a test.

"Do you know why I asked to meet with you?"

"I imagine it has to do with my proposal."

"You are correct," Dr. Hightower pauses as their drink orders are taken. "Tessa, your goals are a bit extravagant, but not entirely impossible. I'm interested in the adaptability of your plan. To see if it can be used in other war-torn countries, post-conflict. But first, there needs to be research and a pilot study."

Tessa nods in understanding, very well aware of this. She's not reinventing the wheel, more like analyzing current developmental programs and trying to create a strategy that's more widely applicable and efficient.

"I'm also concerned about how your focus will change once you continue to pursue your law-degree, especially at your current program."

Tessa weighs her words for a moment. Considering this woman enjoys verbally lacerating grown men for breakfast, Tessa's errs on the side of caution. "I've been permitted a certain amount of flexibility in my academic focus in order to achieve my goal, granted I remain within the bounds and timeline of the program."

Dr. Hightower smiles in a way that indicates she knows something Tessa does not. Unnerved, she leans forward in her seat. "Unless you know something I do not."

Their wine is delivered and orders are taken. Dr. Hightower takes a delicate sip of her wine, eyeing Tessa over the rim of her glass. She sets it down carefully, making Tessa stew.

"If there's one thing I've learned, it's that nothing in life is certain. Your program is up for accreditation this year. Just in case, I advise you get all your ducks lined up, should a situation arise."

"What do you mean?"

Dr. Hightower turns her head slightly, narrowing her eyes, indicating Tessa will receive nothing else in reply. Instead she changes topics, steering the conversation away from Tessa's increasing concern.

"Before you leave for Uganda, make sure you meet with one of my researchers, they'll ensure you document properly and that your records are kept correctly."

"I just got authorization yesterday."

Dr. Hightower dismisses this with a wave of her hand. "You'll need to make a good impression right off the bat, because you'll be going back soon enough and need those people to help get your program some traction."

"Going back!?" Tessa’s eyebrows dart upward in dismay.

"What, you don't actually think a winter holiday will suffice, do you?" She smiles coldly. "Get your head out of the clouds, darling. You need to decide if this is truly something you want to do. There will be many sacrifices. Many. But if you commit and continue to produce excellent results, then I can open doors for you."

Tessa's inherent wariness makes her grow suspicious. "Why me?"

"Because, once upon a time, I was sitting in your seat and was given the same opportunity. I see a lot of potential in you and want to see where you can take this."

Tessa sips her wine, ignoring the compliment. She learned long ago from the media circuit that there is always an ulterior motive. They continue eating, conversation bouncing around in a haphazard fashion.

They finish the meal with a digestif and a subtle ultimatum: "I've given you much to consider, but you need to decide soon whether you want to pursue this project long term because results take many years to materialize. It's not something you can jump into or do half-hearted."

"I understand," Tessa replies as she rises from the table.

"Do you?" Dr. Hightower’s tone is unimpressed at best, and Tessa knows she'll be analyzing every word for days to come.

"I'm not impetuous, Dr. Hightower. When I choose to do something, I commit one hundred percent."

She smiles in that way that makes Tessa feel like just another applicant, nothing special. Which, all things considered, she really isn’t.

Just before they separate for the evening, Tessa turns around and states her case because her inherent Type A will not let her leave this meeting feeling so unsettled:

"I know that I am not the one that makes the difference. I get that." Dr. Hightower raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow as Tessa forges on. "I want to help empower and equip these people with the tools to affect their own change. I will be an advocate... Someone that can ensure their hard work isn't for nothing."

Dr. Hightower looks down at her clutch, smoothing her hand over the expensive leather, then back to Tessa with a demure smile. "I look forward to hearing from you, Tessa Virtue."

Tessa nods, unsure of what more to say. Dr. Hightower ducks her head and turns to the elevators. Tessa returns to her flat to think about not just the remains of her winter vacation, but her five-year plan.

After a lengthy discussion with her mother, Tessa calls Dr. Hightower the following evening, agreeing to her deal.

.::.

By mid-December, Scott has moved from breakfast to having dinners with Shannon. They're typically quick, squeezed in between shifts, but dinner all the same. She's very lively and laughs in such a way that causes Scott to want to keep making it happen. Despite being a redhead, she's slow to anger and quick to forgive, something Scott finds beneficial when he's feeling moody.

Though the meals have been more friendly than anything else, both are well aware that their mutual attraction is undeniable and he certainly wants to progress further. His family has always been pretty open to meeting the women he dates. Hell, they've got an open-door policy with most of Ilderton, but he hesitates to bring her around until after the holidays. Shannon is a bit skittish in that regard, and he doesn't want to frighten her with what could be an overwhelming family get together.

Instead, he invites her to the annual holiday party at the fire station. She agrees, then informs him she'll be returning to the States for the week of Christmas, but back to work the New Year's shift. Nothing like ringing in the New Year with a bunch of drunk homeless people in the E.R.

.::.

During a routine call with her parents, she learns a disappointing, yet unsurprising piece of news from her mother: Scott is seeing someone. Of course he is. Because that’s what Scott does — he jumps into relationships headfirst whenever Tessa gets too close.

"A doctor, from what I understand," her mother states it in that smooth way that carries news like a tornado, swift and devastating.

"Oh," Tessa keeps her voice even, surprising herself. "How long has he been seeing her?"

"Not too long, a few weeks from what Alma said." A break, subtle and ambivalent. "It's strange though, she's very... mature. Not exactly the type he's gone for in the past."

Tessa bites her lip so hard she thinks it splits. "Well, maybe he finally took my advice and is settling down with someone who is good for him."

"Good point. Maybe..."

The conversation continues for a couple more minutes, but all Tessa can focus on is a picture she taped on her wall from when Chiddy and Scott visited. Chiddy is walking towards the photographer while Scott is in the background, catching Tessa as she swan dives off a ledge, his arms open and gaze fixed, her eyes shut and full of trust. That's what life with Scott feels like: the dizzying sensation of constant falling, with the assumption that he'll be there to catch her and keep her safe.

Until he isn't.

Until she feels the same way she felt when she was eight and sixteen and twenty one and twenty four. Until she's lying on her cluttered floor pressing her palms against her eyes, whispering how stupid she is to the darkness. Until she spits out the bitter taste of iron into the porcelain sink, watching the blood swirl down the drain with tears and cold water.

.::.

The line sounds hollow when Tessa tells Scott that she's not coming home until January. She hears a scraping sound on the other end of the line, like maybe he's sitting out side in a chair on his parent's deck. When he responds, his voice sounds resigned.

"Okay, Kiddo. Be safe out there. I'll uh..." He clears his throat and sighs. "I'll make sure the rink doesn't burn down while you're gone."

"Save me a dance?" She whispers, chewing on the inside of her lip.

"I'll save the first and the last and all the ones in between."

She wants to say all the words that she's never been brave enough to summon in the past. But then she glances at her bedroom wall, at the last remaining photo, the one of her swan diving toward Scott. That leap isn't guaranteed to have a soft landing and she's not sure she's strong enough to risk it right now.

"Bye Scotty."

"Bye Tess."

When the line goes dead, Scott pulls the phone away and tucks it into his pocket. He remains outside in the freezing cold for several minutes, thinking about everything and nothing. The door sliding open and a wave of heat reminds him where he is. Slender arms reach around his chest as a chin tucks itself over his shoulder.

"You okay?" Shannon whispers. They're at the Christmas party at his Captain's lovely home. So far, she's been charming and friendly and he couldn't have asked for a better date.

"Yeah. My uh... my friend Tessa decided to push back her return." He's explained ice dancing to Shannon, but she hasn't yet fully grasped what he and Tessa are, what they do. So far, Shannon doesn't appear to be clingy or jealous, then again, she hasn't met Tessa either. That'll be the true litmus test: how she reacts when Tessa is back in his life.

"Speaking from personal experience, I think it'll be as rough on her as it is on her family." Shannon pulls away and grabs his hand, pulling him with her. "But, she made her choice right?"

Shannon's words hit him in such a way that makes his chest tighten. "Yeah, yeah she did." Scott grips her hand, letting her tug him into the warmth and holiday cheer.

.::.

After boxing up and sending home most everything she's accrued while in London, Tessa loads up a rucksack and carryon with essential items and reads up on what to expect when she gets to Uganda. Camping has never been her thing and she knows she's in for a rude awakening once she arrives.

She's pretty sure if she were going without Aimée, she'd shit her pants on the plane. Fortunately, Aimée has visited several times to see her brother and helps Tessa mentally prepare for the journey.

They spend their last night in London, celebrating with their flatmates and friends, a colorful and boisterous crew that make their remaining hours even more memorable. In the midst of all the mayhem and champagne drinking, Tessa feels a tug on her hand and turns to see John pulling her away from the crowd.

She follows him down the hall toward his room, where he opens the door to reveal a surprisingly neat space — bed made, clothes stored in an orderly fashion, shoes in line. He still hasn't said anything yet, just turned to the bare desk against the far wall, searching through a drawer.

There's only one picture in his room and she takes a step to get a closer look. About ten years old, it’s a group of sixty or so men in uniform with the inscription A Squadron, 22 Special Air Service and their motto over their emblem, "Who Dares Wins." Tessa scans the picture, spotting John off to the side, the insignia of a captain on his collar.

"That was my best mate, right there," John points at a man standing just behind him. "Grew up together, fought together. But we didn't die together."

Tessa turns to him, surprised at this unexpected admission. John is still staring at the picture, mind in another time and another place. He blinks hard and shakes his head then holds out an item for her.

"A knife?" Tessa reaches out and grabs the black switchblade. "I'm not sure I'm —"

"Here give me that, before you cut off your finger." He presses the button and flicks his wrist, showing her how to manipulate the blade and close it safely. She takes the knife and mimics his gestures, slower, but just as precise.

"Quick learner, I forgot." He cracks a small smile. "Listen up, yeah? Just because you'll be surrounded by a bunch of do-gooder tree huggers, doesn't mean you're safe. Always be on the lookout; always be aware of your surroundings. You feel like you're in danger, go look for Henri or one of those blokes he's got workin' with him. He might look wiry, but the fella can fight."

Tessa nods, feeling like she's talking to one of her brothers. She glances up at him to see that he has one more object in his hand, but hasn't handed it over yet.

"Now, I know you've got brothers, but this isn't child's play. If it's just you and one other person, go for their eyes, kick them in the groin, then stab them in the chest or their stomach with the knife, yeah?"

She hopes her eyes aren't gigantic, but the cold sweat she's broken out into makes her shiver a bit.

"Aw, don't turn into a chickenshit now, Canada. You'll be fine. But I need to know you'll be safe." He rolls his eyes at her and puts his always present unlit cigarette in his mouth. "If there's more than one man, you turn and run as fast as your twinkletoes will take you. Got that?"

"Yeah," she swallows hard. Running would definitely be her mode of action. "What's that in your hand?"

"A flashlight," it's compact but surprisingly hefty. "Always keep a light on you. Switch it to the right for the red lens. Harder to pick up from far away."

She holds the two objects in her hands, oddly perplexed by his gifts. Looking up at him, he seems uncomfortable and in need of more alcohol. Surprising both of them, she reaches out and pulls him in for a hug, whispering her thanks.

"I know I've been rough on ya," John says as he braces his chin on the top of her head. "But you remind me of my baby sister, so very much. Sometimes I forget myself when I'm with you. She used to make me so mad sometimes."

Tessa pulls away; glad to finally know why he was so hard on her. "Sisters have a tendency of doing that like no other."

"Yeah well —" he shakes his head, stopping himself before going too far. "Let's get back out there. They probably think we're shagging."

"Gross, John," Tessa growls as she opens the door, mortified. "Not after you just said I remind you of your sister. Too soon."

Tessa stores his gifts in a safe place, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that she will keep the items on her at all times.

The following morning, Tessa and Aimée board a plane bound for Kampala Uganda, instead of the safety and the frozen north. Three weeks in Uganda and no Christmas with her friends or family.

When she settles in her seat, she pushes down all ambivalence of starting another chapter in her life. This time, it'll be entirely without Scott. She refuses to feel guilty about though; he made his intentions perfectly clear by jumping into yet another relationship. She's his friend and skating partner. Nothing more.

Surprisingly, she finds this very liberating.

.::.::.::.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I could have edited this better, but I figure what the hell. I tortured myself for a solid week over whether or not I should take this direction with T. I actually had two different scenarios plotted out, with this one being the more appealing to me from a writing perspective. 
> 
> Understand two things: several universities in Canada have dual programs, including Western Ontario and U of Toronto, however they don't quite match up with exactly what I want so I've taken a bit of creative license. Second, a lot of research is going into this (bc I'm insane), hence the time delay. Most references you'll read about from here on out are legit.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	11. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was everything wonderful and delightful and she feels so full of love she thinks she might burst.

.::..::.::.

On day two, Tessa travels from Kampala with Aimee and Henri up to the village where they will be centralized. The nearest town, Gulu, was formerly a hub for displaced persons, but has now become more of a sprawling region of huts and brick homes in various stages of decay and development.

"Hot yet?" Henri jokes from the drivers seat of his busted old jeep. It is packed to the brim with their luggage and a month’s worth of dried goods and supplies. Beside him in the passenger seat sits an excited young German Shepard named Harbuu, "It’s swahili for warrior. My petite bebe is going to be a warrior. Aren’t you?"

Aimee rolls her eyes at Tessa. “He’s had this puppy for about four months. Talks about her non-stop. ‘Oh look! Harbuu walked two feet. Oh look, Harbuu barked at a piece of paper.’ I apologize in advance for any stories you will be forced to hear.”

Tessa watches as the siblings continue to discuss the evening’s plans once they arrive at the village. As the dirt and rock roads are in a poor state, the ride is bumpy, painful, and slow going, but Tessa was prepared for this.

She’s also prepared for the heat. That doesn’t make it any easier, she chides herself as another bead of sweat slides down her spine. She moves her head closer to the window for more of the muggy breeze and gets waves of fine red dust instead that seems to permeate everything. It’s no worse than summer at home, except she just left the damp frigid environs of Christmastime in London and the contrast is glaring.

Her mind wanders during their journey, contemplating the events that brought this entire non-profit into creation. Joseph Kony, leader of the Lord’s Resistance Army, held a reign of terror in Northern Uganda for twenty year using guerrilla warfare tactics, abducting children to use as soldiers and sex slaves. In 2006 he and his forces migrated to countries such as Central African Republic, the Congo, and South Sudan. Now, Uganda is reaching slowly towards stabilizations, while havoc rages on around it.

Once they arrive at ‘headquarters’ Henri takes them to the rudimentary dorm-like room Aimee and Tessa will be sharing and invites them to lunch once they get situated. It’s bare, with squeaky small twin beds and the all-important mosquito nets. They drop their bags, decide they need a broom and some rags to get rid of some unwanted vermin/dead insects then head downstairs for introductions.

Tessa and Aimee meet many of the essential staff from the non-profit, as well as full-time Ugandans who keep the ground operations running for the program. For a late lunch everyone comes together to enjoy a communal meal of beans, rice, and mashed plantains in a nutty sauce.

"This is our common-area," Henri states as he motions around to a large space with two long tables. "Meals, meetings, and a place to hang out after a long day. While the dorm rooms are wired for electricity fed by solar panels, we try to conserve as much as possible and limit it to this area and the kitchen in off hours."

"What is it that you do, exactly?" Tessa asks, uncertain.

"I’m the project manager with the non-profit for Northern Uganda. I oversee the development of recovery communities throughout the region, as well as evaluate existing schools for the possibility of renovation as many have either been destroyed or looted. We’ve completed construction on a total of eleven schools and currently we have… two schools and one community center that is underway in different parts of the region."

"All in various stages?"

"Yes. I have one nearing completion and the other two I expect to wrap up by mid to late summer. We get a lot of college students and volunteer groups during that time which helps immensely."

"Aimee said that we’d be going to the World Vision rehabilitation center tomorrow. That’s where defected child soldiers can receive counseling and re-integration training while the program works to find their families, correct?"

Henri nods as he cleans out a bowl with a piece of bread. “Yes. We will take you around to several of the areas where there have existing programs so you can see the end product. We’ll also take you to a few more schools and a recently completed community center as well.”

"Sounds like you’re going to keep us busy," Tessa smiles, looking forward to all their visits. "Could we stop by one of the Functional Adult Literacy centers, too?"

Henri nods, grinning. “I’m pleased you’ve done your research. Yes, but since it is the holiday season, many are spending time with their families. And, once the students arrive, you and Aimee will go with them to the site that is nearly complete. We need to finish the walls, install the windows, and paint.”

"I understand that theft is a big problem. Are there other security issues?"

Henri shrugs as he reaches down to rub Harbuu’s head. “You’re dealing with a population that is more than happy to have a school, however it is still struggling economically so theft is not uncommon. Oftentimes, we get funding to construct a school, but not enough for a fence to surround and protect. It’s not as dangerous as Kenya though.”

"Do you have teachers lined up for the school?"

"That is why I went to London. That and to see my sister," Henri smiles. "We have three, including a nun that was schooled in Kampala and is a fantastic resource. But she will have nearly 50 children to teach. There is another teacher from Uganda who was on an exchange program in London and is due to graduate in the spring. I wanted to ensure she is still interested in working with us."

Tessa nods as she and Henri rise to return their dishes to the kitchen. “In a lot of my research, I know the women struggle with the cost of sending their children to school. Is there a way to fund the school to ensure children get free access?”

"We do have a merit-based scholarship program. However, it’s a slippery slope. Part of the reason there is a cost for education is to ensure compliance." Henri starts washing their dishes while Tessa dries. "If it’s free, where’s the incentive to keep a parent from sending their child out to work in the fields instead? Many parents do not value education and choose to use their children differently."

This hits a sore point with Tessa and they engage in a discussion over free versus paid education. Aimee enters the kitchen to find them quoting journals and literature at each other.

"Wow, I leave you alone for a few minutes and you start a fight with my sweetest friend," Aimee says as she walks up to Tessa and slings an arm around her shoulder. "You be nice to this one, she’s my favorite."

Henri rolls his eyes and walks off muttering about going to train Harbuu for a couple hours “Ignore him, he is very stubborn and gets very heated over education.”

Tessa yawns, unfazed. After spending the last few months with John, she feels prepared to verbally throw down with anyone. She and Aimee talk a bit longer then decide to take a nap before commencing their tour around the countryside.

.::.

Scott goes to breakfast with Shannon the morning of New Year’s Eve after she returns from Georgia. Her accent is stronger, which he likes and comments on, causing her to roll her eyes in reply. They talk about their families often and find that despite the difference in origin, both of their families are somewhat similar: she also has two older brothers, all in ‘the family business’. Scott’s not sure what that is, but she gets this look like she’s taking out something foul when she refers to it.

After reviewing respective traditions and some of the ensuing madness, they take a step towards more serious matters: the reason behind her moving to Canada, and why she doesn’t think she’ll ever return home.

"My parents are divorced when I was a teen and my mother remarried shortly thereafter. She and I are estranged. My father is a physician in Toronto, and he’s the one that suggested I come to Canada. My mother… She is an important person in Georgia and she has a habit of unintentionally making things difficult for me."

By the way she holds herself, ramrod straight, hands balled into fists, he can tell this isn’t easy information to share. Scott asks his next question carefully.

"Do you mind sharing what happened between you two?"

She gives him a thin smile and shakes her head. “Maybe another day. But you do need to know something… if we’re going to… if this is going to become more. I wanted to tell you before I left, but I chickened out, so…”

"What’s up?" Scott leans forward in his seat, suddenly anxious.

"Remember that day you found me in the hall?"

"Crying but acting like you weren’t? Yes."

She rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah, I uh… I had just signed my divorce paperwork.”

"Divorce." Scott repeats the word back to her, surprised.

"Yes. As in I used to be married, and now I am not."

Scott looks at her, dumbstruck. “You were married!? For how long?”

"We were together for three years, married for five and separated for one."

Scott does the math in his head. “Wait. How old are you?”

"How old are you?" She counters.

"Twenty eight.

She raises an eyebrow and shrugs. “I’m twenty nine.”

Scott absorbs this knowledge. He knew she was around his age, due to her profession. But he wasn’t expecting the other part. “How’d you meet?”

"We met during one of those summer abroad trips after freshman year, volunteering with a non-profit. Stuart and I were the only ones from Georgia, though he went to an all-male college in Virginia. We dated all throughout college, got married before med-school, then things started to go south during my internship, and we spent most of my second year of residency separated."

Scott raises his eyebrows and lets out a low whistle. “That’s… that’s a lot of information to take in.”

"Yeah, I figured." Glancing at her watch, she frowns then grabs her purse and prepares to go. "I’m gonna give you a few days to think it over. If you want to grab dinner, give me a call."

Before she reaches the door, Scott asks her out for dinner that Friday night. She smiles and agrees to his request.

.::.

"I’ve never seen this many stars before," Tessa whispers in the darkness. She, Aimee, and a couple other volunteers are sitting on the roof of the school, staring at the sky. The air is thick and heavy, but the sky is surprisingly clear with stars dotting the inky blackness.

"Me neither," whispers one of the Americans. "It’s absolutely gorgeous out here."

Tessa listens as the others chat quietly, conversation floating around her. She thinks back over her day, watching a class of Adults graduate from the year-long literacy program and sharing in their celebration. They had a grand meal and danced with their families and children as their mentors watched on proudly. This celebration was so similar to the one she had upon her own graduation — the joy and pride of accomplishment, the daunting task of facing the unknown, the excitement of a new beginning.

Remembering the afternoon before, she visited the orphanage two villages over. She met a young woman, Lily, with a child who’d escaped the LRA in 2013. The woman shared how her older brother was forced to kill their parents in front of her and her siblings, then he was taken in the night. She’d gone to live with her Aunt, but was abducted two months later. After spending seven years as a sex-slave, bearing several children, many who died, she escaped.

"How did you know where to go?" Tessa asked gently, avoiding eye contact as is their custom.

"I heard one of the ‘Come Home’ speeches on the radio. They broadcast all the time. They told me it was safe. That they would take care of me."

Tessa glanced around at the solid structure of the orphanage, the colorful murals painted on the wall. “And do you? Feel safe?”

"I do." Lily slid her hand inside Tessa’s, a gesture of friendship. "Now, I can go to bed, and not worry if someone is going to take my children as I sleep."

Tessa offered a weak smile, trying to remain unaffected by her words, but inside she felt terrified. These are a people who don’t show much emotion, preferring to remain unaffected and calm. At least she had one thing in common with them. The young woman shared about her plans to attend the sewing school, then earn enough money to buy some land for her and her remaining siblings and children.

Before leaving late in the day, Tessa asked if she could take her photo.

"Why, so you can remember me?" Lily took a seat along a wall, her toddler son wrapping his arm around her neck from behind.

"No," Tessa shook her head as she raised her camera, bringing her subject into focus. "So I can celebrate you."

A mere snapshot that encapsulated so much: resilience, strength, dedication, hope.

"Tessa? Tesssssssaaaaaaa," Aimee’s voice calls softly as she taps Tessa lightly on the leg. "Hey you in there?"

Tessa blinks slowly then stretches. “Yeah, sorry. I zoned out.”

"We’re going inside, you ready?" Aimee’s head is tilted to the side, studying Tessa carefully. "Unless, you want to stay out here a little while longer."

Tessa smiles at her and nods. Aimee reclines on the warm roof tiles beside Tessa, reaching out to take her hand. Some gestures of friendship are universal.

.::.

"This is insane," Scott yells from the top of a half-completed roof down to Paul. "You do realize that we have a snow storm coming in a day, right?"

"Don’t worry about it, we’ll cover up the holes in the meantime," Paul replies. "Can’t help Mother Nature. Just think about how good it’ll look once it’s done."

Scott frowns as he treads gingerly back to the ladder, starting his decent. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry man. This house is just… one problem after another.”

"No one ever said flipping a house was easy." Paul says as they step inside and look at the gutted interior. "Though, I agree. I wasn’t expecting that amount of roof damage. At least the plumbing is squared away."

"Yeah, true. That would have been a nightmare to replace," Scott says as he pokes around at the insulation that was just installed that morning. "What uh, what are you and Sarah doing Saturday night?"

"Not much, why?" Paul leads Scott back outside, locking the door behind them.

"I’m in Toronto during the day taping a show, but then I’ll be back late afternoon. Want to join me and Shannon for some drinks and maybe dinner?"

Paul raises an eyebrow, giving Scott a knowing smile. “What, you want me to make sure she passes the test before you take her to meet your family?”

"No, it’s just that I want her to meet some of my friends, and considering I actually like both you AND Sarah, I figured it’d be a good idea."

"Sure," Paul laughs. "No problem. How’re things going by the way?"

"You mean other than that divorce bombshell? Not bad… Not, well. I mean… We haven’t —" Scott stops and looks at Paul, shoving his hands into his coat. "You know. I haven’t…"

"You guys haven’t had sex yet?" Paul finishes for Scott, who nods in the affirmative. "Well, it makes sense if you think about it."

"How so?"

"You said she met her ex while in college and they were together up until a year ago. Odds are, she’s never been with anyone else."

"Oh, right." Scott frowns, shaking his head. "And the hits just keep on coming."

"It’s not a big deal, man. Just talk to her about it. I imagine she’s much more aware of the situation than you are."

Scott sighs, leaning against his truck. “Awesome.”

"Heard from Tessa?" Paul asks, curious how she’s doing.

"She left me a voice mail while I was on a call. Her access to phones is sporadic at best."

"Does she sound okay?"

"Yeah, she sounded…" Scott thinks about the message he’s listened to at least a dozen times. "She sounded excited and happy and tired. I think she’s really glad she went."

"Good," Paul says as he watches Scott closely. "Well, she’s got what, Less than two weeks left? Then you guys can start your skating lessons again. That’ll be good, right?"

"Yeah, it isn’t nearly as fun without her around, that’s for sure." Scott glances at his watch and pushes off from the truck. "Gotta get to the fire-station. Let me know about Saturday, K?"

"Sure thing." Paul hops in his truck as Scott walks to his, thinking about the women in his life and the potential for disaster.

.::.

Tessa is exhausted. More than exhausted. She’s sweaty, slightly sunburnt, and her body is aching from all the weird positions she maintained throughout the day. The secondary school she and Aimee have been devoting twelve hour days to for the past week is nearly complete. With the college students full of infectious energy and enthusiasm, Tessa finds herself being constantly renewed but left feeling scattered. She wants to know so much about so many things and has such a limited time in which to do it.

Many of the college students were awarded this trip as a result of massive fund-raising efforts they did at their universities or hometowns. Getting the chance to see what the money goes to, as well as having the opportunity to participate in the efforts they so greatly believe in has been gratifying, to say the least.

After eating with the raucous group and taking a quick lukewarm shower, she heads to the common area to get some work done. She arrives to find Aimee working with Robert, a Ugandan that specializes in media. He also has the best laugh Tessa has ever heard, light and infectious. They are editing a video that will be shown during the summer at several conferences and summits.

"How’s it coming?" Tessa asks as she slides into a chair farther down the long table.

Aimee looks up, bleary eyed. “Tedious. A lot of the footage from the past two days didn’t turn out well.”

"Anything I can do?"

"Change your mind and let me interview you," Aimee sits up in her chair, giving Tessa sad eyes.

"Not going to work. I’m a behind-the-scenes girl, you know that," Tessa turns to her computer to document the past two days. After a few minutes, she feels a warm, furry presence settle at her feet, a wet nose nuzzling her leg. She reaches down and pets Harbuu, who makes a sound of satisfaction before resting her head on her paws.

After half an hour, Henri appears with his own computer and two notebooks, giving Tessa a frown. “So you’re the one who’s been slipping her scraps after dinner.”

Tessa looks up, wide-eyed and innocent. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

"Well you can continue to have ‘no-idea’ when you walk her around the compound tomorrow. I think she’s gained at least a stone since you’ve been here."

Tessa balks at this. “Not even. She’s a growing girl,” she reaches down and ruffles Harbuu’s fur, “aren’t you, beautiful? Ignore the mean man, Harbuu, he’s just jealous because you like me better.”

"Ha, hardly," he narrows his eyes, shaking his head. "I saw you and Aimee going through commands with her earlier. It’s good for her. I primarily got Harbuu for protection, especially for my sister. In a month I’ll be relocating to a different site for a period and I want to ensure she’s safe while I’m away."

"Is that what your meeting is about tomorrow? The next school?"

"Yes. The nun I’ve been talking about, Sister Rosa, is coming with one of the co-founders of the non-profit. She is considered an elder in this region, having reached the age of 50 and still healthy and strong. Many of the villages take her recommendations very seriously, and if we intend to come to an agreement over this potential renovation, I need to ensure she agrees and is willing to help."

"Sounds like a busy day," Tessa observes as she sips her warm tea. "Would I be able to meet her?"

"Of course. I think she will be a great resource to you. She will remain with us for several weeks, so you will certainly have a chance. The co-founder of this non-profit, Tyler Underwood, will only be here for two days before traveling to the next site."

"Tyler is from San Diego, right?" Henri nods in reply. "Headquarters?"

"Yes. For this specific program. He comes out about twice a year. Very passionate, very driven, and very much entrenched in helping these people." Henri lights up as he describes his friend.

"You seem to admire him a great deal." Tessa watches as he nods emphatically.

"Have you ever been around someone that is very charismatic? Someone that brightens the whole room and draws your attention, even if they’re just talking about something benign?"

Tessa’s mind immediately goes to Scott, at his most comfortable in the limelight, drawing a laugh or goofing around. “Yes, very well.”

"Tyler is like that. And very articulate. He works with the digital team as well, using the web to get these stories heard. If you don’t meet him tomorrow, I’ll get you his information. He’ll be a good asset for the next phase of your project."

Tessa gives him a warm smile in gratitude. They both return to their work with only the gentle snore of Harbuu and Aimee talking with Robert to fill the silence. In just a short time, this has become Tessa’s routine: up before dawn, hours of hard work and meeting people, collecting data and working late into the evening. She’ll be leaving soon enough, returning home to complete her first year classes.

And what a year it has been so far.

.::.

Scott’s at the rink, helping out his mom for a couple days. After dinner Friday night, the snow storm moved in and a couple of the instructors had to call out due to poor driving conditions. As he strokes around the rink, listening to his mom call out instructions to wee little skaters, his mind starts to drift.

He needs to stop by and ensure Tom has enough firewood, then go by the property and give Paul an update on how the roof is coming now that the weather has cleared. He should also probably try and make dinner for Shannon, since she’s been working crazy hours at the hospital with all the bad weather.

So much to do, so little time.

"Scott!" He turns to see his mom, red in the face with mild irritation. "I’ve been calling you for a solid minute. You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry. Distracted. What can I do?"

"Take the next group for fifteen minutes. I’ve got to get in touch with the coach for the U-12 hockey team to see if they’re still on for later."

"Got it." Scott wrangles the group of kids and gives instructions for a fun activity that’s excellent at working on form and technique. He loves being on the ice, he really does. But it really and truly isn’t the same without Tessa around. Almost like it’s lost it’s appeal, which he finds surprising. Not only that, but they always divvy up duties, one excelling where the other does not, perfect complements.

Once he wraps up, he heads to the office to check in with his mom. “Heading out,” Scott says as he leans against the door jamb. “Shannon said she’d love to meet up for dinner this week. It’ll have to be early though, she’s on nights.”

"No problem." His mom nods from her desk. "Pick the time and place and we’ll meet up. Just me and your dad."

"Sounds good, have a fun afternoon." Scott heads outside, turning his face against the blistery winds, the chill setting into his bones. He heads to Tom’s for a quick visit, then home to cook up a quick dinner.

Up until recently, he’s only ever gone to Shannon’s. It’s more out of convenience than anything else. She lives in town, it’s close to the station and the hospital, and it never really occurred to him until after he spent the entire weekend at her place that they never go to his.

The roads had been unnavigable and he decided to rough it out at Shannon’s instead of making the trip home. She alternated between 12 (more like 14-16) hour shifts at the hospital to cramming in as much sleep as possible when she could. Of course, during one of those evenings, they had ‘the talk.’ It was much less awkward than he was expecting, but that didn’t take away from the fact that he was getting a little antsy.

Tonight will not be that night, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make her dinner. She works her ass off and barely complains, she’s practically indefatigable. Scott secretly wonders if she uses speed or something, but he suspects it has more to do with her ADHD. He turns on a hockey game and gives Paul a call, then sets about making some pasta. When she arrives a half hour later, dinner is ready to go.

"It smells amazing!" Shannon enters the kitchen and gives him a quick kiss before taking off her scarf and coat. Her hair is down again, and she’s wearing what he assumes is a ridiculously expensive sweater based on how soft it is. "Need any help?"

"Nope, just take a seat at the table and pretend like you’re interested in hockey. Deal?"

She laughs at him, rolling her eyes. “Are we good for dinner with your parents?”

"Yeah. Mom’s looking forward to it." Scott sets two full plates between them, pours two glasses of wine and then takes a seat. "I’ll make sure to keep it brief, since I know you’re already freaking out."

"I’m not freaking out," Shannon drawls out the last word, her accent catching. "I just don’t have the greatest experience with parents. That’s all."

"You’re saying this based on interactions with your ex-husband’s parents, who sound like quite the family."

"They’re practically southern royalty, so yes, it was an adventure."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, but my parents are pillars of this community," Scott smiles facetiously. "I’m pretty much a king around here."

"Right, I bet you are," Shannon rolls her eyes. "I bet you’ve eaten with the Queen of England too."

"As a matter of fact, I have!" Scott grins widely watching as Shannon makes a face of utter disbelief.

"Yeah, okay. And when did this occasion arise? Was this before or after you traded recipes on bread pudding? Or maybe you went to a pub and shared a pint?"

"Oh, you’re going to regret that," Scott replies as he rises from the table and heads to his guest room, Norma Jean trotting close behind. He digs around in the closet until he finds his certificate and a picture of him and Tessa mingling with the royal family.

"Holy shit, I don’t believe it," Shannon covers her mouth in shock, staring at the certificate and the photo. Norma Jean barks in excitement, spinning in a circle. Scott grabs her bone and sends her into the living area to settle down.

When he returns, Shannon glances up at him, cheeks a little pink as she tries to hide her embarrassment. “You know, sometimes I forget that you have this whole other life. It’s so strange to me.”

He watches as she looks at the photo, eyebrows drawing together. “This is Tessa, right?” She points at Tessa in a long green gown, Scott nods. “She looks a lot like Kate Middleton.”

Scott smiles. “Yeah, she gets that a lot.”

He’s not sure why, but he doesn’t mention Tessa very often when he’s with Shannon, and she never inquires. It’s possible that she doesn’t fully understand the Tessa & Scott image and their impact on the community. Granted, he hasn’t done much to fix her impression.

Not only that, she’s still never seen a clip of them skating. She always claims that she’s got more important things to do than look him up on youtube. Which is probably true. Part of him doesn’t want her to. Part of him wants a relationship with someone that is completely separate from everything he has with Tessa. This is the first time he’s ever been able to make it a reality and he wants to see where this can go.

"She’s very beautiful," Shannon remarks quietly. She says it the same way one would as if they were commenting on the weather or the color of the sun. When she looks up at Scott, she smiles, shaking her head as she hands back the photo.

"Alright, I’ll eat humble pie. Any other surprises? Have you met Yoda or are you a secret member of Star Fleet Command?"

"Ha. Hardly." Scott shakes his head as he takes the certificate and photo back to his room. What Shannon lacks in knowledge about sports, she more than makes up for in geek lore such as Star Wars, Star Trek, and Lord of the Rings. The best thing is that she plays video games. No, she wins video games and makes him look ridiculous.

They spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch, talking and staring at the fire. Exhausted, Shannon drifts to sleep beside Scott, her hand curled up in the bottom of his shirt. He wakes her up in the early hours of the morning asking if she wants to stay on his couch or go to bed. She follows him to his room, and assumes the exact same position on his bed, nestling into the covers.

When he wakes in the morning, it’s to another foot of snow on the ground and soft kisses on his neck. He gets a whiff on minty fresh breath and immediately wishes he had some mouthwash.

"I called out of work," she whispers as she slides her hands under his shirt. Scott hums sleepily as her fingernails scrape against his skin. His eyes shoot open as her hands drift lower and realization strikes. She called out of work.

"You sure about this?" He turns looks down at her with heavy lidded eyes.

"As sure as I’ll ever be."

.::.

"I understand you leave in three days?" Sister Rosa asks from across the table. Tessa nods at the woman she’s spent the last week getting to know. She’s thin, but made of steel, wears a slow, wide smile and has a gentle laugh that sounds more like a whisper. She’s a remarkable person, having lived through 20 years of Kony’s reign of terror, losing most of her family, yet still holds on to her faith and belief in education for everyone. Her cause is simple, but she is as complex as they come.

In true Ugandan hospitality, everywhere Tessa’s gone with Sister Rosa, people stop what they are doing and invite her into their homes, greeting her kindly with a handshake and an inquiry into her health and family. If there’s one thing Tessa’s learned how to do since she’s arrived, it’s how to be a better active listener. These people share themselves in bits and pieces, over meals and walks and lessons. But it is a trade; she must always provide a little of herself in return.

She talks of her family, the most common relationship for others to grasp. Her crazy brothers are an easy topic, as well the antics of her and her sister. Seeing as she considers Scott to be as close as family, she shares him as well, though not as often.

"Have you enjoyed your time here?" Sister Rosa sips her chai, surveying Tessa quietly.

Tessa smiles brightly. “Very much. Having the opportunity to meet many of the rehabilitated defectors, seeing how their families reach out and embrace them has been very enlightening.”

"There is still much to be done, however. And not just here."

"I agree, such a long road for them all," Tessa replies. "But you’ve already done so much with so little. The sewing school? Helping develop the scholarship program? You are solely responsible for the construction of three schools. Remarkable."

Sister Rosa shrugs, unaffected as she casts her gaze outside to her two nephews, aged 7 and 4, playing with Harbuu. The boys are polite and quiet around Tessa, both rather shy. But when they are outside, they run and play, spinning in circles until they collapse on the ground with laughter.

"Henri mentioned that you were interested in our vocational programs for the women here. There is need for more, certainly, especially as families reclaim land that was taken from them. The programs assist a lot with local economy."

"I was wondering if there was a way to combine the adult literacy program with a vocational program. Co-locate them near a school so the women are near their children and can go home with them at the end of the day."

Sister Rosa considers for a moment and nods. “It is possible. I must look into it. Henri will contact you if I find anything.”

Just then, Aimee and Henri enter the common area carrying the boys over their shoulders. Aimee spins around with the youngest, Isaiah, laughing in delight. The older nephew, Tuba (Tessa is uncertain if that’s his true name), hangs onto the back of Henri, his legs dangling.

They drop to the ground in a playful heap, breathing heavy and smiling. Aimee looks up from the ground just as Harbuu comes inside, trotting over to lick faces.

"Aw, yuck. Henri, get your dog!" Aimee calls out, sitting up quickly as she wipes off her face.

Tessa calls Harbuu over first, whispering at her to sit. As with all puppies, she does as instructed for approximately ten seconds before forgetting and running off.

"Why does she listen to you, and not to me?" Aimee scowls petulantly as she takes a seat on the bench next to Tessa.

"Because she bribes her with kisses and table scraps," Henri quips as he picks up Isaiah who sticks his arms out like an airplane, flying around the room.

"I knew you were a clever one," Aimee states as she wraps an arm around Tessa, grinning at Sister Rosa. "Do you like this one Sister? Should we keep her?"

Sister Rosa gives a wide smile and a gentle shrug. “I think so. But will she keep us?”

“Keep us? Can you keep people?” Tuba asks as he climbs onto the bench beside his aunt, earning a wink from Tessa. “That doesn’t seem very nice.”

"Perhaps not, but we mean to keep in our hearts, little one," Sister Rosa replies. She glances over at Henri who is still puttering around the room with Isaiah. "Henri, I was just talking with Tessa about the vocational program. What do you think?"

"Well, even though there are a few in place for women, they are not everywhere and I believe having the right combination of interest, investment, and vision are all that’s needed. If Tessa can get Dr. Hightower to buy off on it, she’ll have the vision and investment part down."

"Well, we’ll see." Tessa admits quickly. "There’s a lot of work that remains before I can make any headway."

"Ah," Sister Rosa waves her hand in a dismissive fashion at Tessa, "the work will always be there. If not you, then who?"

Aimee bumps her shoulder with encouragement as Tessa looks at the table, picking at her fingernails. “An excellent question.”

Two days later, Tessa rises early and piles into the truck with Aimee and Henri. They kindly offered to suffer through the six hour journey on rough roads to deliver her to the airport in Kampala for her return flight late that afternoon. Just as before, Harbuu sits up front with Henri, delighted to be going on a long and bumpy adventure. Aimee is remaining behind in Uganda, having only just begun her year-long stint in this region for her doctoral studies. She will also spend time in Rwanda, Kenya, and South Sudan as well.

When they arrive in Kampala, it’s a stark contrast from the gentle hills of rural country they left behind. Now it’s the vibrance of thriving areas, urban shantytowns, and overwhelmingly poor living conditions of the city. It’s colorful and smelly and a bit too much action for Tessa’s taste.

Tessa exchanges information with Henri, gives Harbuu a long hug, and then wraps her arms around Aimee who is a blubbering mess.

Henri stands behind Aimee, rolling his eyes at his sister. “If you need anything, just send us an email. It’ll take about 24 hours turn around, but I’ll do what I can on my end to answer any questions for you.”

"Good, I appreciate it," Tessa replies as Aimee pulls back and gives Tessa a soggy kiss on both cheeks.

"Let me know that you’ve landed properly. I want copies of the pictures we discussed. And if I don’t get at least one email a week from you, I’ll assume it’s because you’ve locked yourself inside your room and crumbled beneath all the pressure," Aimee states with a watery smile.

"I promise. I expect emails from you as well. Don’t forget to send me updates on the new school. Oh, and I want to know if Tuba ever gets the hang of that bicycle." Tessa frowns, sad to leave her friends. She turns to Henri and gives him a quick hug, then reaches inside the jeep and gives Harbuu another kiss on the head, ignoring her soft whine.

She grabs her bag and hefts it over her shoulder, only turning to wave once before she enters the airport. Even though it took most the day to get here, she still has another twenty hours of travel before her. She checks in, grabs a soda and snacks at the convenience shop, and heads to her gate. It’s not until she’s on the plane headed home via Frankfurt, that she lets the tears fall, quiet and fast.

.::.

"I swear to God, Moir. If you don’t chill out, I’m going to send you outside to go wash the ladder truck with a toothbrush."

Scott scowls at the Captain as he takes a seat on the couch in the common area. Matt drops onto the couch beside him, looking at him like he has two heads. “You’ve been like this for the past four days. At first, I thought it was because you finally got laid, but now, I can’t even tell. What’s up?”

Scott elbows him in the arm, looking around to make sure no one heard him. “Tessa’s flight is due to arrive any minute.”

"Oh, is that right? She’s finally coming home. I was beginning to wonder if she was having second thoughts about gettin’ hitched. I’m not that ugly am I?" Matt teases as he sucks in his slight beer belly.

"Yes. Yes you are that ugly," Scott shoves him as he stands again and starts pacing. "I can’t handle this weather, man. I need to go outside and run around or something."

"No kidding. Maybe you should go scrub down the truck with a toothbrush.”

"Ha ha, how about no." Scott replies. He glances at the clock on the wall. Tessa sent a group text from Frankfurt informing everyone of when she’d be arriving. Up until that point, he’d been pretty chill. But once he received her text he’s been going nonstop. Before he can say anything more, the dispatch tone goes off and he gets roped into a call.

When he finally gets off work, it’s three hours later and he’s a little pissed. Pulling up in front of Tessa’s home, he takes a minute to calm himself. He’s still in his work clothes, having skipped his shower due to his excitement, but now regretting the fact that he smells like a sweaty mess.

"Whatever, it’s not like it matters." He climbs out of his truck and walks to the front door, knocking quickly.

"Scott!" Ms. Virtue opens the door, smiling at him. "Come on in! Tessa’s upstairs in the shower. We fixed up a plate for you, if you’re hungry."

"I am, actually," Scott smiles as he receives a hug, removes his boots, and continues into the kitchen. "Sorry I smell so bad. I just got off work."

He enters the kitchen and shakes hands with her brothers and father, all gathered around the table. He spies a pie and some angel food cake on the counter and glances at Tessa’s mom who smiles at him. “Yes, that’s for you.”

"Aw, that’s so kind of you, thank you very much." He brings her in for yet another hug, excited.

.::.

Tessa steps out of the shower and rings out her hair, utterly exhausted but happy to be home. The cold was a rude awakening, but her mom was thoughtful enough to bring her jacket to the airport. When she got home her family had all come together to have a great big dinner. It was everything wonderful and delightful and she feels so full of love she thinks she might burst.

She considers making this a new holiday, musing over her peculiar craving for salad and all things green and healthy. The larger towns in Uganda had plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables, but that required a trip to acquire and wasn’t easy to come by. She’s never longed for a tomato so much in her life.

Once she emerges from her room, she hears laughter and Scott’s voice coming from downstairs. Freezing in her tracks, Tessa searches around for a place to hide, scrambling like an idiot. She knew he’d be coming. But in her excitement and fatigue, she neglected to consider what it’d be like, seeing him again.

And damn if it doesn’t hurt like hell.

But, now is not the time for a pity party. Besides, her family is waiting to open Christmas presents and eat dessert. So, she takes a deep breath and descends down the stairs practicing a semi believable smile. Shoot, if living with Aimee for months taught her anything, it was how to be better at shielding her true emotions.

She pads into the kitchen quietly, sneaking up behind Scott who is telling quite the story. She watches him for a moment, rolling her eyes at his animated explanation, then slides her hand up his back, causing him to jump and turn quickly.

"Ah, heyyyyyyyy!" Scott wraps her in a hug so tight that she thinks she feels his heart beating against her chest. He smells like sweat and warmth and that indescribable scent of Scott. He smells like home. Like hours spent at the rink and gym, exhaustion, and victory. When they pull apart he sets her on the ground, bombarding her with twenty questions all at once.

Her eyebrows dart upward as she gives him a genuine smile, taking a seat at the dinner table with the rest of her family. Her mom serves everyone a piece of cake or pie, giving Tessa a large glass of frosty chocolate milk and a container of nutella to add to the angel food cake. She grins at her mom and settles in as her family and Scott pepper her with questions, asking for pictures and stories.

It’s late when things finally wind down and Tessa is fighting back sleep with everything she’s got.

"Look at you, Kiddo," Scott says from his seat across from her. "You should get to bed."

She blinks hard, ignoring the way her brother squeezes her cheek, teasing her. Ten minutes later, she finally caves, giving everyone hugs and kisses and half-conscious waves before heading upstairs. She walks Scott to the door, shaking her head at a crazy story he’s telling from when he was in Toronto.

"I’m glad you’re home," Scott says as he pulls her in for a hug. She feels his breath, warm against her neck and fights hard not to turn her head into him and do the same.

"I’m happy to be home," she replies as she pulls away, not wanting to remain long in his embrace. She’s avoids his eyes for a moment, too tired to put up a wall between them. He senses this, reaching out for her hand and squeezing it.

"Tess?" His voice is quiet and uncertain. "Are we okay?"

She glances up at him and sees legitimate fear and concern in his eyes, hating that she’s the reason it’s there. Immediately she knows that no matter what he’s afraid of happening between them, she doesn’t want to sacrifice what they do have for what they don’t. So she gives him a smile, the one meant only for him, and squeezes back.

He reaches out and places a kiss on her forehead, then turns and leaves through her front door. After she closes it behind him, she leans against the door, biting her lip and keeping her eyes shut tight. She can do this. He wants friendship.

She can give him friendship.

.::.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading. I have specifically left the non-profit nameless. It is based heavily off Innocent Children which will be ending next year.


	12. 10.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thing about being a performer, is that no matter what’s going on off the ice, on the ice he is an actor. And right now he is a desperate man, holding on tightly to the only thing he knows.

.::.::.::.

School resumes almost immediately for Tessa, giving her enough time to return to her apartment, do a few loads of laundry, and catch up on much needed rest. She squeezes in coffee and meals with friends when she gets the chance, but everyone wants to see her, and there is only so much time in the day.

Adjusting to being home isn’t as challenging as she thought it would be. Her mother is maintaining a respectable distance, her friends haven’t moved on completely, and she continues to keep her thoughts in a neutral territory regarding Scott.

Tessa allows herself only a moment to consider the fact that while she’s been gone, so much and so little has changed. Most notably, her parents repainted the downstairs, which was only five years in the making. Other than that, everything is the same, down to where they keep the cutting boards and the times at which their dogs like to go out. Tessa derives an odds sense of comfort in this.

Also, Paul and Sarah are engaged, which is crazy, because she was there when they first met and they did not like each other. Not one bit. And now, he’s renovating his family’s old lake house, adding on Sarah’s dream kitchen and a home office. Part of Tessa would be more alarmed at this change if she let herself think about it. But she stores it up and takes it in stride. Instead, she absorbs the news with a bright smile and a hug with her friends, ignoring the twinge deep down that tells her she’s falling behind.

By the time she meets up with Scott again, it’s nearly two weeks after she’s gotten back, late on a Thursday evening after hockey practice has concluded at the rink. She’s been sneaking into the rink during what little free time she has, reworking and reteaching her muscles what it’s like to skate again. Overall, she’s pleased with her progress. Her stamina hasn’t suffered too much due to her varied dance lessons and diligent gym attendance.

While in England studying countless hours, she got on a modern classical kick and has the music of Ludovico Einaudi blaring as she strokes around on the ice, bundled up against the cold. It’s peaceful and invigorating in a way that she treasures, breathing in the chilly air, letting it settle deep in her bones. Dancing will always be her true love, but she feels alive on the ice in a way that dancing has never permitted her to feel.

After nearly an hour, she feels Scott more than anything else; it’s a strange sense that he is near, watching, waiting to join her. Subtly changing her movement, she holds out her hands to the side, ducking her head with a grin as he slots himself behind her and takes her hands, blades cutting deeply into the ice as they move about.

"Practicing without me?"

Tessa hums as they transition into their warm-up dance. “Can’t have you making me look bad for Saturday lessons.”

"Impossible," he whispers, moving along with the music. They chat as they move around, catching up on the past couple weeks. Scott inquires after a couple of her roommates, getting updates on their whereabouts and such. Tessa learns that Scott is in the middle of flipping three houses, two of which will be a quick turn around, but one has become quite the money pit.

"I hope you know what you’re doing, Scott Moir," Tessa warns as they come out of a spin. "I’m pretty sure your mom will kick your ass if you go bankrupt fixing a house that isn’t even yours."

"Eh, she actually asked if me and Paul would be up for renovating part of our house, so… I hope not."

Tessa arches an eyebrow. “Wow, that’s awesome. And dangerous. What is it that they always say about working with family?”

"Don’t do it?"

"Yeah, exactly. I mean… I feel like this could either go very well or very poorly."

"I know. I haven’t given her an answer yet. I think I’m going to push for her to take a bid from Smitty."

"Smitty!?" Tessa smirks at this name. "I haven’t seen him in years! What’s he up to?"

Scott grins. “This and that. You know how he is: good at whatever strikes his fancy. Right now, it’s contracting. His sister helps out with the design aspect, so they’re doing pretty well. I figured he’d be the best choice.”

Tessa shrugs, trusting Scott’s opinion. “If not, I imagine you’ll let him know.”

"Yeah, me and half of the town." Scott says this as Tessa is curling over his shoulder, her breath warm against his neck and legs firmly in his grasp. When he releases her, she spins away with an arm flourish and he feels his breath catch. Swallowing hard, he continues on after, much as he has his whole life.

"I like the music," Scott says when they stop to get water. "We should use it for Stars."

Tessa narrows her eyes. “Possibly. Did Jeff reach you? I think he’ll be in town mid-february. We can meet up to go over choreography and music with him.”

"Yeah, I figured. I left him a message. We’ve been playing phone tag the past few days." Scott takes off his fleece, growing warm. Absently, he reaches out and grabs her gloved hands, removing the fabric and sliding their fingers together. Tessa fights hard not to pull her hand away, instead relaxing into his grip as he tugs her out on the ice.

"What about Jennifer?"

"Swann?" Tessa replies, trying to focus on his words and less on the contact. It doesn’t tingle or anything cliche, it just exudes a warmth up her arm that is hard to ignore. Did it always feel like this and she just never paid attention?

"Yeah. She’d be good for one of the pieces, right? We’re still slotted for two full skates, so we might as well spice it up."

Tessa rolls her eyes as they glide around, testing out different ideas.  
Before they know it, over an hour has passed and her iPod has transitioned into some Frank Sinatra. Scott waggles his eyebrows, laughing as the song starts to play.

"Fly me to the moon?"

"Yeah," Tessa replies. "Elise is a big fan of the rat pack. We used to have movie nights together… watch all the classics."

"I bet you were in heaven," Scott smiles, moving in time with the music. He watches as Tessa performs a certain combination, then asks her to do it again, trying to mimic it. "I like that. Let’s try again."

They continue on for another half-hour, stopping when they hear clapping from the boards. It’s Larry the night janitor, smiling at them as they begin to apologize profusely.

"Don’t worry about it. Thanks for the show," he says as they put on their skate guards and head to the changing rooms. Scott waits for Tessa to emerge and together they walk out into the parking lot.

"Alright, we’re still on for Saturday?" Scott asks, stopping at her car.  
Tessa nods, meeting his hand as they slap together familiarly. “Yup, 8 am.”

Tessa pulls away in her SUV, feeling pleased that she can still continue to skate with Scott without her resolve weakening; whereas Scott returns to his truck feeling the opposite. He’s surprised at how good it felt, to be skating with her again. How easy it was to forget everything - time, stress, people.

Then again, that was his problem to begin with: when he’s with her, nothing else exists. She becomes his whole world until she gets tired of him and leaves him with nothing except memories and an empty hand.

Starting up his truck, he heads towards Shannon’s, promising himself not to get sucked in anymore, not to fall even deeper into whatever it is between him and Tessa.

.::.

Scott and Paul pile out of his truck a couple days later, carrying bags of food and a case of beer. They stand outside Tom’s waiting for him to hobble to the door.

"So you’re Paul?" Tom grunts as he shakes Paul’s hand.

"Guilty," he smiles as he glances at the damn bird. "Who’s your friend there?"

"None of your damn business!" replies the parrot, sliding to the edge of his perch. Paul’s eyebrows dart upward as he glances at Scott who simply shrugs and points his middle finger at the bird. Scott sets the case of beer on the floor as he looks around.

"You sure there’s enough space for a poker table in here, Tom?" Scott calls out as Tom walks to a back room.

"You bet," Tom emerges with several fold up chairs, while Paul follows with a large round table top. "Been using this thing longer than you been alive, Kid."

Scott rolls his eyes at Paul, turning to the front door as Matt and Joey (of the cooking adventures) enters. “Hey! We got a full table. Excellent. Hope you brought your paychecks, fellas, I’m gonna wipe the table with you.”

"You talk a big game, Moir," says Matt as he takes a seat and opens a bag of chips. "We’ll see about that."

Wagers are made and the men quickly settle into their game. Scott had been brainstorming a way to hang out with Tom and his buddies, now that his schedule is closing up a bit with Tessa back. Shannon suggested a Poker Night, which he thinks is ingenious and immediately set to work. This is the second week in a row at a different place, same night and it’s turning out to be exactly what he was looking for.

"So, you still want the Lakehouse at the end of next month?" Paul asks Scott as he throws a couple chips on the pile.

"Shannon’s still trying to clear her schedule, but I think it’ll work," Scott replies as he eyes his cards warily.

"What’s this? Is baby Scotty taking his girlfriend on a romantic retreat?" Matt asks as reaches over and ruffles Scott’s hair. "Want to make sweet-sweet lovin’ on a bearskin rug?"

Scott knocks Matt’s hand aside as he scowls. “Knock it off. Nah man. She’s going to start studying for her board exam soon and she warned me how busy she’d be. I just thought it’d be nice to get away for a little bit before she’s in the thick of it.”

"Oh," Matt frowns, shame-faced. "Well, good idea then."

Joe rolls his eyes and punches Matt in the arm. “Just because you don’t know how to woo a lady, doesn’t mean everyone else is as dense as you.”

"Hey, hey, who’s the only one married at this table, thank you very much?!" Matt holds up his hands, pointing at himself.

"Paul here will be catching up to you soon enough," Scott says as he tosses an M&M at Paul. "Did you and Sarah set a date yet?"

"Yes, October."

"Where are you going for your honeymoon?" Tom asks.

Paul rolls his eyes. “I have no idea. Tessa’s been filling Sarah’s head with all sorts of ideas. I’m pretty sure Sarah would rather go somewhere with Tessa and leave me behind to clean the house.”

"Let me guess…" Scott says as he leans back in his chair. "She wants several days in Paris, then a tour through the French countryside, perhaps wine-tasting and finish up somewhere along the beach."

"That’s a little creepy," Paul narrows his eyes. "How’d you know?"

"Tessa’s had a couple friends and family get married in that area. I’m pretty sure she’s going to relocate to that part of the world sooner or later."

"It sounds good to me," Joey says. "I’d be fine with relocating to the french countryside. I like their fromage. Tell Tessa I’ll take her whenever she wants to go."

"Ha, get in line," Matt says. "I called dibs like, last year."

Scott rolls his eyes, exchanging an exasperated look with an amused Tom. “Alright, alright. Paul, you staying local for the wedding?”

"Yeah," Paul smiles widely as he glances at his cards then up around. Scott frowns. Paul has the worst poker face known to man. It also means Scott’s about to lose.

Two hours later, Scott heads home, a hundred dollars poorer. Checking his text messages just before bed, he replies to his buddy confirming hockey practice the next night, as well as Jeff who is staying at Tessa’s. Crawling into bed, he fires off one last text, wishing Shannon a good night at work.

.::.

After lessons on Saturday, Jeff meets up with Scott and Tessa at their usual spot, sliding into the booth beside Tessa.

"Enjoying your trip?" Scott asks, smiling as Jeff removes his coat.

"Immensely. I missed this girl way too much," he swings his arm around Tessa and squeezes her tightly. "She tells me that you want to skate to a country song. You know how I feel about country.”

"Yeah, yeah. It’s not super country though. Tessa hasn’t even heard it yet."  
Jeff looks at Tessa, eyebrows raised. “And you think you can skate a piece to a song that you haven’t even heard yet?”

Tessa shrugs. “We’re compromising. He’s agreeing to skate to Frank Sinatra if I agree to one of his songs.”

"Yeah, but you like Frank Sinatra,” Jeff says to Scott. “That’s hardly fair. Tessa tolerates country.”

Jeff turns back to Tessa who’s face is carefully blank. “I’m okay with it. I promise.”

"Alright, we should listen to it first. Otherwise, I’ve been drawing out a pretty solid routine specifically for you two. I’ve got a couple songs in mind, but I’ll reserve judgement until we hear Scott’s choice."

Tessa exchanges a look with Scott who nods his head at her, both agreeing. “Sounds good, what’ve you got?”

Jeff lays out the routine for Scott and Tessa, his enthusiasm infectious. They finish their meal quickly then return to the rink to do a walk through and block the routine, agreeing to meet again in the morning. Jeff leaves with Tessa while Scott heads home.

"Wow," Jeff says as he climbs into the passenger side. "Country? COUNTRY!? Tessa. Really?”

Tessa glances over at him, confused. “What? I’ve been saying no for years. I was going to have to give in eventually.”

"In more ways than one," Jeff mutters as he buckles his seat.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Tessa frowns.

"It means… it means that you’re being really obvious," Jeff replies. "Skating a song that he likes, just to make him happy? You might as well roll out the door mat, because he’s gonna walk all over you."

"That’s not… that’s not it at all."

"Really?" Jeff turns in his seat to stare at her. "Bull shit. I know things have been weird between you for a while now, but Tessa, come on, this is madness. He’s dating someone else."

"I know that," Tessa replies assuredly. "His personal life has nothing to do with our music selection."

Jeff makes a huff of disbelief. “I swear to God you two drive me absolutely insane. Why can’t you two get on the same wavelength? One year Scott is giving you puppy dog eyes and you shut him down. The next it’s flipped. I mean, what are you so afraid of?”

Tessa bites her lip, shaking her head. “It’s more complicated than that. And for the record, I’m pretty sure we’re only ever going to be friends. So… can you please drop it?”

Jeff must pick up on something in her tone, because he straightens himself in his seat and clears his throat. He scans through her iPod, scrolling through her music before settling on a song. As ‘All the Single Ladies’ blares over her speakers, Tessa gives Jeff a disparaging look and a punch in the shoulder as they head toward her apartment.

"You’re such an asshole sometimes!"

"Yes, but you love me anyway."

Tessa sighs, rolling her eyes. “Sadly, that is true.”

In the end, Scott changes his mind about his music selection, deciding his choice was a little too pointed for Tessa to comply. He concedes to one of Jeff’s compromise selections which is a couple years old. It’s Eavesdrop, by The Civil Wars, a band from a few years back which has since gone separate ways.

When he catches Tessa giving Jeff a dirty look, he wonders what they discussed without him, and why this particular song is one she agreed to, or if she did at all. Regardless, the tone it sets between them is not one that generates comfort and devotion. More like desperation and longing and fear of the end.

Oh, something new for him.

.::.

By March, Tessa has already submitted the first very rough draft of her thesis. It’s a working, live document, one that changes as quickly as international affairs and daily attitudes. While exasperating at times, it makes her very aware of the world around her, both politically and legally.

Occasionally she engages Scott in discussion about things she’s learned or concepts that she’s milling over. Sometimes he’s a great sounding board, his mind very elastic in its ability to absorb and reconstruct information. Other times, it’s like she’s talking to a twelve-year-old who hasn’t a clue about anything outside of his little bubble.

Today is one of those days.

"I don’t see what the big deal is, Tessa!" Scott says as she fumes away, the ice slushing around her forceful stroke. "I mean, I do, but what does Iran or Iraq have to do with what you’re doing at school?"

"Scott, all I was saying was that the mistreatment of women and children in those countries has far exceeded anything even remotely acceptable. You making a dumb joke about women ‘knowing their place’ is not only chauvinist, but perpetuating the problem."

Scott absorbs her words quietly, not having much to say in response. He knows she’s gotten much more involved in human rights, specifically those of women. It’s just that sometimes their talks escalate to incredibly serious matters too quickly, and he makes poor attempts at dissolving the tension.

"Look, I was just trying to lighten things up, you’ve gotten so serious lately," he replies, skating closer to her. "You know, more than anyone, how much I respect and value women."

Tessa doesn’t reply, just clamps her mouth shut and clenches her jaw at intervals. He hates it when she does that, because instead of having it out with him and clearing the air, she bottles it up then explodes on him at a later date. It’s not pretty.

So, he does what he always does, tries to provoke her until she either goes at him or walks away. He continues to needle her, but she doesn’t take the bait. Impressed with her absolute refusal to throw down, he becomes distracted by the way she furiously removes her gloves and fleece, pulling it over her head roughly. Beneath, she’s wearing that dark teal top that he loves because it makes her usually bright eyes seem dark.

But when she turns to look at him, her cheeks flushed in righteous indignation, eyes that dark and stormy green, and her hair falling out of its bun, he feels like he’s been walloped by a horse. Sure, he’s seen Tessa in every stage and sort of gorgeous, but even now he is amazed that this particular moment is the one to steal his breath. Instead of saying anything, mainly because he’s incapable, he takes her hand and pulls her out on the ice, moving into position as Eavesdrop starts.

The thing about being a performer, is that no matter what’s going on off the ice, on the ice he is an actor. And right now he is a desperate man, holding on tightly to the only thing he knows.

Which isn’t hard because Tessa, for all her inherent grace, is skating in such a way that enhances the inherent discord of the song, sharp and somewhat jerky. He feels the tension in her shoulders and arms, sees the ire in her eyes and the set of her jaw. When he moves into their lift, he changes the release and instead of setting her down, he wraps another arm around her and pulls her even closer to him.

Though this isn’t their Jack and Diane lift, her head is still above his and his lips are planted very fortunately near his favorite colar bone.

"Scott!" Tessa squeaks, gripping his shoulders. "Put me down!"

"Nope."

"We almost did the whole thing straight through and now you’re ruining it. Come on, put me down."

"Nah, I’m good like this," he replies, his lips grazing her skin at intervals as he speaks.

She growls at him once, which he’s sure is supposed to be menacing, but is more like the most adorable sound he’s ever heard. He smiles and feels her grow even more irritated as she pushes her torso away from him. This throws off their balance and he nearly falls, but pulls them both back quick enough to avoid certain pain.

"Trying to kill us?" Scott barks as he straightens. "You know my back can’t handle that."

"Then put me down!"

"Not until you stop breathing fire and look me in the eyes and understand that I’m not trying to piss you off."

"But you are! Sometimes I just want to have a legit conversation with you, but you always make a joke out of it.” Tessa replies stubbornly, her arms wrapped around his shoulders at this point. She may not be aware of it, but her thumb is stroking the back of his neck. He’s also getting a little tired of holding her, but she has yet to give in to his demand. So he squeezes tighter, just like he used to do when they were younger.

Sighing, she pulls away carefully this time, still irritated with a beautifully disgruntled expression. He can feel her breath on his lips and could count every eyelash if wanted. Without evening thinking, he angles his chin upward slightly as she drifts closer, their eyes closing in concert. At the very last second, however, he feels her grip tighten on his neck and hears her voice, low and breathy.

"Scott, you need to let me go."

And so he does, gently.

.::.

It’s late. Super late. As in it’s closer to morning than night. Of course Tessa is wide awake. She thinks it’s because she’s in a strange bed. Either that, or because Joannie dropped a hot piece of news on her at dinner.

She’s in Montreal for the weekend, primarily to meet up with Marie-France and Patrice and go over their programs with them and get some outside input. Scott is due to arrive in the morning, so it gave her an entire Friday with just her and Joannie.

At least it was just her and Joannie until dinner, when Joannie’s boyfriend showed up. No, scratch that, fiance. Yup, Joannie is engaged.

Everyone is engaged.

No wait… Tessa takes stock of her friends and counts three single ones. Hell, even Kaitlyn and Andrew are together, and they’re still competing!

Tessa turns on her side and huffs, trying not to be angry, but she can’t help it. Excluding Paul and Sarah, she’s had four friends get engaged. And two are pregnant. This is ridiculous. What are people doing with their lives?

She’s been on one date since she’s been back and it was such a bust that she contemplated climbing out of the window in the bathroom. What is she doing wrong? Why can’t she get this part of her life right? Everything else seems to be okay right now — school, family, skating (sort of?), but her dating life is in the dumps.

"This is dumb," she murmurs as she sits up slowly. She’s in Joannie’s guest room, which is absolutely lovely, but her brain will not shut off. "Why does it even matter?"

It’s not like she has time to devote to a relationship right now. She’s either busy studying, working on her thesis, or volunteering at the women’s shelter. Even then, she has to TA this semester so she even holds office hours, which is a joke, because half the time it’s some sweaty second year trying to ask her out. Not cool.

She shuffles into the kitchen and makes herself a cup of chamomile tea, hoping it’ll help her chill out. Thirty minutes later, she’s curled up on the couch, reading a Gillian Flynn book and drowsing intermittently.

"Tessa? Wake up sleepy head," Joannie is sitting beside Tessa on the couch, holding out a cup of coffee, filtered gray light streaming in. Scrunching her face, Tessa sits up, letting out a wide yawn as she takes the proffered mug.

"You okay?"

Tessa nods, giving Joannie a reassuring smile. Which she doesn’t buy at all.

"It’s okay, you know," Joannie sits back against the couch, propping her head up with her fist. "To feel frustrated. I mean, I want you to be happy for me, but I also know that this is hard for you."

"I AM happy for you," Tessa leans forward, grabbing Joannie’s hand. "You, of all people, should have someone in your life that makes you happy and welcomes you home and holds your hand when you go walking."

"And you don’t?"

Tessa pauses, frowning. “I don’t know anymore. I don’t know if I’m ever going to get that.”

"Tess, don’t be so dramatic. You’re in the middle of grad school and you’re only twenty-seven. A lot of your friends are just in completely different stages of life."

"I know," sighing, Tessa leans back into the couch. "But while I’m killing myself in the library, everyone around me is falling in love and making babies… literally."

She’s about to say more, but stops when her cell-phone starts to chime. It’s her alarm, letting her know that she has thirty minutes before she needs to be at the rink. Shutting it off, she glances up at Joannie and sighs, standing quickly.

"Do me a favor and pretend this conversation never happened, okay?"  
Tessa drains the rest of her coffee as Joannie follows her into the kitchen. “The only acceptable time for a pity party is after taking shots or before you’ve had coffee. Since neither is the case anymore, I am a new woman. All will be well. Mark my words.”

Joannie merely shakes her head and smirks as Tessa turns and promptly knocks off her shoulder on the door jamb leading to the hall.

"Ouch. Meant to do that!"

.::.

The last notes of Fly Me to the Moon ring out in the rink and Tessa pulls away from Scott, both breathing heavily. The last 45 seconds of the song are rapid and unforgiving and they have yet to complete it without looking like they sprinted a mile. Which… they kind of did, but whatever.

"Wow, that was…" David, one of the choreographers that works with Marie-France and Patrice, stands still, jaw slack as he searches for words.  
“I know you two are exhausted, but that was magnifique. Absolument.”

Scott glances at Tessa, grinning. They’ve been at it most of the day now, starting off rocky, but progressing rapidly with David’s assistance. They’re responsible for the brunt of the work on this piece, but he’s added the finishing touches that elevate this to something that will get the audience out of their seats and clapping.

Because that’s what they do now instead of competing. Their goal is to get people to whistling and cheering, as opposed to earning that ever so important fraction of a point to help them win out over their rivals. Damn, he misses it. So much.

He tracks Tessa’s progress across the ice as she moves to the boards to grab her water. She’s been acting strange all day and he can’t figure out why. Then again, she’s barely met his eyes since he almost kissed her a couple weeks ago. Which, all things considered, wasn’t that big a deal. Especially because he went home and had sex with Shannon four times that night.

Whenever she’s stressed, Shannon needs something to take her mind off it. That tends to be running, video games, or sex. Scott can do all three with her and typically in that order. Yesterday, she left the hospital at 830 in the morning and made him late to work because she had a challenging shift and required his assistance. Twice.

He’s currently ruminating over how beneficial the hot yoga has been for her when Patrice shows up. Pleasantries are exchanged and he requests they repeat the last number. Tessa grins at Scott as they move out onto the ice, assuming their starting position. The music comes out loud and clear, and together, they begin again.

But when they do a quick run through of Eavesdrop, the one designed chiefly by Jeff, they end the song in the original positions of them facing apart and looking forlorn. When they turn to their small cadre of critics, they’re met with looks of sadness.

Marie-France, who came in at the start of the song, is the first to speak. “It’s beautiful, but absolutely heartbreaking.”

"Yes, yes, very tragic," David nods in agreement. "I think it’s in much better shape than your other one was this morning, we will focus on this sad song tomorrow."

Eyebrows shooting upwards in surprise, he looks at Tessa who doesn’t seem even remotely fazed by this. When they pack up their stuff and agree to meet up again with Marie-France and Patrice for dinner, he finds that he can’t let go of their reactions.

"I don’t think it’s that sad, do you?”

Tessa shrugs, looking wan. “Not sad so much as full of desperation.”  
Scott nods, agreeing. “That was the point though. When Jeff framed it for us, that was the intent behind it: two people who are fighting a losing battle.”

"Eh, I figure once we explain it to them at dinner, they will feel justified in feeling that way."

Dinner is at a lovely restaurant not too far from Scott’s hotel. Tessa arrives with Joannie in tow, who walks up gives Scott and tight hug. When he pulls away to look at her he feels a sharp object on her hand that nearly slices off his thumb.

"Woah there, what is THIS?" Scott asks as he pulls her hand up to his face.

"That is my engagement ring, silly! My finace just left for business but he wanted me to tell you he loves it when you guest on Hockey Night."

"Ah, thanks," Scott replies, smiling. He prods Joannie for all the details, hoping it’s the same guy she brought around last year. Shortly after Marie-France and Patrice arrive with their young daughter, Billie Rose, and they all move over to a large round table.

Throughout the meal he keeps tabs on Tessa, who’s sitting across from him. She smiles and laughs in all the appropriate places, has a very serious discussion about nail polish with Billie Rose, but he can tell her mind is elsewhere.

He grows more concerned when they all part after the meal, agreeing to wait outside with the girls as the valet goes to collect Joannie’s car.  
Scott’s having a lighthearted conversation with Joannie, but Tessa is a thousand miles away, watching the traffic as it passes by. She’s got this look on her face he’s only seen a couple times before, and he wants to ask about it, but something tells him she won’t be providing any answers.

He gives Joannie a kiss on the cheek and a hug, congratulating her again. But when he turns to Tessa, she’s already walking around to the other side of the car, giving him a quick wave before climbing in. Like she couldn’t wait to get away from him.

The next day is like nothing ever happened, Tessa shows up with a smile on her face and is in good spirits. They move through their pieces, throwing in accents and flourishes at will. David and Patrice decide they need to change the end of Eavesdrop to something less tragic but more dramatic, so they are brought into the gym and practice various lifts over the mat.

"No, no, no! I want captivating! I want something that will take their breath away! This is nothing new. Nothing different. Go take a break and get lunch. I will have your ending when you return."

Lunch is a quick bite at a deli down the street. Scott tells Tessa about closing on the moneypit, hoping to have enough profit from the venture to get something he’s been saving up for.

"What is it? A new truck?’

"Mmmm nope."

"A boat?"

Scott makes a face, “hardly.”

"Okay, I give up. What is it?" Tessa chews on the end of her straw, impatient.

"Not so fast, Miss Virtue. I’ll let you know once the deal goes through. I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. Bad enough that I’m so excited about it."

"Oh goodness. Now I really need to know."

"Nope, not gonna happen." Scott grins as he finishes the rest of his chips. "Hey, what was up last night? You were acting funky."

Tessa’s face remains passive as she shrugs. “Nothing really, I just feel like my personal life has taken a hit since I’ve been back. All I do is school and work.”

Scott nods, understanding the sentiment. “You’ve only been back a couple months though, keep that in mind. Not only that, but you’re in the middle of a very demanding program.”

Tessa nods, but his words don’t seem to be helping. “It’s just that I feel like everyone is moving on while I’m stuck spinning my wheels.”

"I think we all feel like that sometimes, Tess. Sometimes you just gotta keep spinning until you get some traction."

When they return to the rink, David and Marie-France are gesticulating wildly, speaking rapidly en francaise. Tessa picks up on bits and pieces, but Scott is lost. Finally, David stops, exhales, then nods at Marie-France. She turns to Scott and Tessa, giving them a warm smile.

"We were trying to iron out some details. Come, let us return to the gym, we found a clip of something I think you both can adapt."

They watch several clips of acrobats and ballet dancers, take bits and pieces and try to see what fits. After three hours and many bruises later, they think they have something that will fit Patrice’s definition of dramatic.  
When they get out on the ice, Tessa seems a bit hesitant at first, not quite comfortable with how close this lift has her face hovering to the ground. Scott isn’t too keen on other parts either. Essentially, they both expect to die at the very end of it.

"Hey, remember that one time I had your crotch in my face and people called me carpet muncher for a year? I think I’d rather do that lift than this," Scott blurts as he grabs her hands to warm up on the ice.

"Hey remember that one time we had to balance my entire body on your shoulder, upside down, and basically couldn’t breathe for ten seconds? Yeah, I’d rather do that, than this."

"At least we’re in agreement then," Scott replies as he strokes backwards, trying to loosen up. If there were words to describe what exactly this lift was, he’d be impressed. The only problem is that it basically defies gravity and physics, something he thought they were done doing.

It’s slow going at first, both trying to adjust a static lift to a fluid environment. After a couple tweaks and a lot of cursing, they get it right. They do several run throughs before Patrice returns, both growing exhausted with the demands of the piece.

The song begins, as does Scott’s voice. When they were younger, Tessa used to be both amused and annoyed by Scott singing with the music. Sometimes he’d make up the words and it would drive her crazy. But then they got older and started dancing to more serious music and sometimes she’d imagine he was actually saying the words to her. It didn’t matter if she was happy with someone else at the time or blissfully single, having him whisper lyrics in her ear was a surefire way to tug at her heart.

Today though, not so much. The song is just so damn sad. And as they move through the music, she feels the melancholy seeping into her bones, working it’s way into her heart and mind. His lips press against her temple as they shift positions, making her curious if it affects him as much as it does her.

When she looks up in his eyes, her breath catches in her chest and she almost forgets her steps. It’s the same look he gave her that morning back in London, right before he left for the airport. They draw closer as they always do at this point in the music, but this time she places a kiss below his ear out of view of their audience, then moves into the start of their new death-defying finale.

When they finish, his head is buried in her neck and she can feel him breathing heavily, his grasp tight against her. They straighten quickly, aware of their audience and both feeling rattled. Hands together, they skate to the boards to await judgement.

Patrice is unreadable at first, scrutinizing them as they draw closer. “Well, that was… captivating, certainly. You both emote so well out there, I wish all our students could convey such depth.”

"Well, I mean, it was drilled in us pretty young to skate like that, always," Scott replies, his hands warm in Tessa’s as she nods in agreement.

"It was wonderful. Very moving," Marie-France states softly, her eyes on Tessa. "I get the message you were both talking about last night at dinner. It’s futile, everything you do, when you’re both going to lose in the end."

"But the lift!" says David. "It is the piece de resistance on this entire movement. I think it’s a much better fit that what you had before."

"Definitely, I think a couple more weeks of practice and you will be spectacular."

Scott and Tessa nod, both taking in the praise, promising to return for one more session Monday morning before Tessa has to head back for classes that afternoon.

.::.

Two weeks later, Tessa receives a text from Scott reminding her that he’s going to be away all weekend (read: I’m going to be banging my hot girlfriend all weekend until we can’t walk straight), and that he’ll meet up with her during the following week if she wants to go over their skates. May is rapidly approaching and Tessa feels like everything is happening all at once.

When she’s locking up the office from TA hours, Dr. Bouchard crosses her path and gives her a bright smile.

"How are you, my dear?"

"Good," Tessa replies, not liking the expectant look on her mentor’s face.  
“Can I help you with something?”

"Actually, yes. I was wondering if you were available this Friday."

"As a matter of fact, yes." Tessa wonders if there’s a sign over her head that reads *I have no social life and live to please others.*

"Wonderful! Listen, I am going to a dinner in Toronto with some people I think you’ll be interested to meet. I think it would be a great idea if you join me."

"In Toronto?" Tessa frowns. She was hoping it would be something quick and painless, like dog-sitting for the night. "Thats… actually, that would be good. I have a friend that lives there I was thinking of visiting. Might as well do it now while I have the chance."

"Oh! I am so happy, you will come. I will email you the details. Dinner is at a nice restaurant, so wear one of those cute dresses you own."

Tessa nods dumbly as Dr. Bouchard sweeps away, her petite frame seemingly gliding along the floor. Pulling out her phone, Tessa texts a girl she grew up with who opened a pilates studio in Toronto. Apparently she’s doing quite well for herself, but Tessa is more concerned with the overall wellness a meeting with an old friend can provide.

Oddly enough, after getting an excited reply from her friend who cannot wait to see her, Tessa gets a call from her agent, asking if she’s available this weekend. Informing him that she’ll be in Toronto, he says that’s perfect, as that’s where he needs her to be anyway. She agrees to meet him for brunch and then sets about finding a dress to wear to this fancy  
dinner Friday night.

.::.

When Tessa arrives at the restaurant, she glances around for Dr. Bouchard, concerned that the weather may have delayed her. A cool hand on Tessa’s arm startles her, causing her to turn around.

"Hello, my dear!" Dr. Bouchard pulls Tessa in to kiss both cheeks then pulls away to admire her dress. "This is lovely, is it new?"

Tessa glances down and shakes her head, having spent most weekends studying, writing, or skating with Scott. Shopping has sadly fallen to the wayside with her social life. She hopes to remedy that tomorrow while she’s in town.

"Well, it looks beautiful on you. Come this way, I’ve already gotten us a table over here." Tessa follows her through the restaurant, ambivalent about this entire occasion. Completely justified as she draws short when she sees Dr. Hightower sitting with another gentleman at a table in the corner.

"Tessa, lovely to see you again," Dr. Hightower rises and greets Tessa. She turns to the very attractive man with tan skin and sun-bleached hair and introduces him as he rises, "This is Jason Winthrop, co-founder of the non-profit you were working with in Uganda."

He smiles brightly as he takes her hand, shaking it firmly. “It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from several people.”

Tessa takes a seat, smiling. “Same here. Henri and Sister Rosa speak very highly of you.”

"Yes, well I was the one who lucked out in meeting them, I assure you. We wouldn’t be where we are today without either of them."

Tessa nods in agreement, looking to Dr. Bouchard as Dr. Hightower orders a bottle of wine for the table.

They all make small talk until they place their orders, with Dr. Bouchard giving Tessa a comforting smile. “So, you must be wondering why we asked you here tonight.”

"Considering everyone assembled I’m willing to bet it has something to do with the vocational center I proposed."

"Yes and no," Dr. Bouchard replies. She glances at Jason who takes his cue.

"We’re interested in spreading our organization’s reach to Canada, and we think you’d be the best person to do that. We have many students and volunteers in universities such as Magill and here in Toronto; however we think with the right person, we can generate a considerable amount of interest throughout all of Canada."

Tessa absorbs his pitch, not completely sold. Eyebrow arched, she turns to Dr. Bouchard who defers to Dr. Hightower. “I’ve read the rough draft of your thesis, and I see exactly where you’re trying to go with this. I think it’s ambitious, but you’ve done your research and it shows. Experiment with Uganda, see if you can adapt it for other countries.”

Feeling a little thrown, Tessa glances at Dr. Bouchard who wears a smile of encouragement. Her rough draft is rough. Very. She was in no way prepared for it to go to anyone other than Dr. Bouchard. The sense of betrayal is quick, but strikes a chord.

Dr. Hightower continues with an assured tone. “Placing a community center near a school and combining a literacy program with a vocational program is an excellent idea. Especially if you join forces with one of the companies like Mend or Tom’s where they are taking these individuals and providing them with jobs afterward.”

"Basically," Jason resumes talking, "it’s all about your outreach. Students are fantastic at raising money. You saw it yourself in January. Since you’re so well known here, it would require a few speaking engagements, possibly organizing a fundraising dinner. We have plenty of staff that can assist with that, so it would be more like you’re the face of the show. The students would do all the hard work."

Glancing at Dr. Bouchard, Tessa starts to feel very uncomfortable with this situation. “I’m sorry, I… I fail to see what this has to do with my proposal to create theoretical vocational center. You want me to raise the funds to make it happen?”

"It doesn’t look like Ryan Gosling is lining up to get the ball rolling, so yes."

"Well, let me know once you get Ryan Gosling. I will be more than willing to help out," Tessa says with a laugh. "Seriously though. I’m not sure I’m the right person for this. I’m just —"

"A two time olympian, winner of a gold and two silver medals?" Dr. Hightower interjects. "Don’t think I was unaware of who you were when we first met, Tessa. I know how to use google as well as the next person."

Tessa remains passive, trying to hide her irritation. In the silence, Jason continues speaking: “We think you’ve got a great idea; you’ve already started laying down the groundwork and the contacts. My organization can help you out with the fundraising and implementation into regions of need.”

Jason stops to take a sip of his wine, turning to her and smiling warmly. “After that, it’s a matter of making it happen. We have a summit this October, which would be a great time to announce your proposal to the world at large. In the meantime, you fundraise and get the word out. This can be an initiative on behalf of Canada — all Canadian students, funds, and promotion. That is, if you’re up for it.”

As he speaks, Tessa finds herself transfixed. It’s something about his tone and the excitement in his voice, the way he lights up when he talks about something he’s passionate about. She certainly agrees with Henri, Jason is very charismatic.

Dr. Bouchard, who has been quiet during this whole process, senses Tessa’s hesitation. “Tessa, I know this wasn’t your intention, but I see real promise in this plan. I truly think it can go somewhere, and I think it’s worth considering.”

Tessa looks down in her lap, tracing the pattern of her dress, chewing on the corner of her lip. This was not what she had in mind at all when she submitted her proposal, or her rough draft. Developing policy and implementing plans to revitalize a war-torn nation are challenging enough. But being the architect is much different than being the salesman.

"Tessa, you want to be the advocate?" Dr. Hightower counters firmly.  
“You’re going to have spearhead this project yourself. That includes being the face of the campaign.”

If there’s one thing Tessa dislikes, it’s being badgered into doing something by having her words turned against her. So, she hides behind her one saving grace.

"I have to talk to my agent about this. I already have existing contracts with certain companies that might not support this endeavor. There could be legal ramifications if I go ahead without approval." She says this more for lip service and to buy herself some time. The truth is that a couple of these companies would be more than happy to endorse her efforts. Dammit.

"Take your time," Dr. Hightower replies, giving Tessa an shrewd smile. "This is a big step, I wouldn’t expect you to be impetuous.”

By the conclusion of the meal, Tessa is exhausted. It’s like dining with a lion, a tiger, and a bear. Emerging unscathed is an accomplishment in itself. As she bids farewell to Jason Winthrop, she catches the shine of a wedding band and is surprised to find a subtle disappointment. Oddly enough, this makes her feel hopeful in the sense that she was actually interested in someone else other than Scott, however brief. Tessa shakes Dr. Hightower’s hand, agreeing to remain in touch, then accompanies Dr. Bouchard outside.

"I know you feel like you were ambushed, I promise that wasn’t my intent," Dr. Bouchard says once they step outside into the cold. "It’s just that I saw an opportunity, and I took it, hoping that you would see it as such."

"An opportunity?" Tessa echoes, shrugging in consideration. "It’s… I don’t want to get labeled as this ultra-right wing activist. I especially don’t want it to affect my professional or skating career. If I pursue this, I don’t want it define me."

Dr. Bouchard gives her an affectionate smile. “Tessa, that is the least of your problems. There are worse things to be labeled, as I’m sure you’re aware. Call your mother, discuss your concerns, clear it with your agent. Let me know as soon as possible.”

Tessa nods in understanding, hailing a taxi that’ll take her to her hotel for the night. She orders a chocolate sundae and settles in for a Suits marathon, choosing to shut off her mind and focus her thoughts elsewhere for a change.

.::.::.::.


	13. 10.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let’s get this straight.” Scott runs his hands through his hair, roughing it up. “Whatever’s going on between them is over and they don’t want it to end.”

.::.::.::.

When Scott wakes early Friday morning, his entire body is in protest. He had a ridiculous day (and night) at the fire station, putting in overtime as his crew helped extinguish a fire in a local neighborhood. Lying in bed, he feels Norma Jean thump her tail in anticipation, letting Scott know he has approximately three minutes before she’s going to do the ‘I need to go pee’ dance.

Scrubbing his face with his palms, his mind wanders back to the weekend he just spent with Shannon. It was pretty marvelous. Paul let them crash at his lake-house, which just wrapped up a pretty extensive kitchen renovation. They cooked, went snowshoeing, watched plenty of movies, and even though there was no bear-skin rug, they definitely had sex in front of the fire. Among other places.

All in all, he had a great time, and he knows Shannon appreciated the chance to get away. They really had a chance to get to know each other on an entirely new level and all he can say is he is very excited about their future. Even though she could care less about sports and has a drier sense of humor, she loves to cook, has a strong sense of loyalty and honor, and most importantly, she opens up his mind and gets him thinking about things in a different way. Sometimes she grows impatient with what she calls his ‘excited puppy’ behavior, but he’s learning when to chill it out when she gets that crease between her eyebrows.

He only has one concern; something in the back of his mind that he hasn’t quite had the courage to ask about yet: why she and her ex-husband got a divorce. She still doesn’t talk of her mother often, but she’s close with her brothers and visits her father when their schedules allow. As a matter of fact, Scott will be dining with Shannon and her father just before he leaves on tour for Stars on Ice. All things considered, he knows he should be more anxious, but Shannon talks about him so often that Scott feels like he knows the man.

A tell-tale whine emerging from his sweet little monster lets him know that NOW is the time to go out. Rising quickly, his body protests all movement as he heads to his backdoor. Frowning, he sees that several inches of snow fell the previous night. The last thing he wants to do right now is shovel is driveway. And his elderly neighbor’s that lives across the street.

Isn’t it April, already? Maybe he should move south for the winter. Somewhere with umbrella drinks and white sand.

.::.

Somehow, someway, Tessa’s mother scores a pair of tickets to the American Ballet Theatre’s premiere of Cinderella in New York City. It’s quite possibly the most exciting thing she’s done in months and she can’t be more thrilled. Not only that, but she hasn’t spent more than a couple hours with her mom in ages and she’s desperate for some one-on-one time.

The night before she and her mom leave for New York is a family dinner with her brothers, Casey and Kevin, and their wives. There’s a scheduled facetime session with Jordan as well, so it’s bound to be chaotic. When she arrives at her parent’s house, something tells her this is more than just a casual family dinner, but she’s not sure what.

Everything is going great, she loves spending time with her family, even when they get in heated debates about sports or silly things like what parliament is up to that week. But when one’s family is full of lawyers and elite athletes, what do you expect?

Once they arrange their parts and pieces around the dinner table and wine starts being served, Tessa gets her first clue. Casey’s wife passes on the wine, which isn’t irregular, but the secret smile she shares with Casey makes Tessa’s spidey senses go up. Then there’s talk of visiting Jordan at Christmas to which Casey is particularly vague on agreeing; strange since he loves Australia and has been talking of going to New Zealand as well.

By the time dessert rolls around, Tessa’s practically rolling her eyes at the sheer idiocy of it all and pretty much outs them because she can’t handle the suspense any longer.

"You’re pregnant!? Oh my goodness." Kate exclaims, standing quickly and hugging Casey and his wife tightly. "This is wonderful!"

They’ve already made it through the first tri-mester and learn that Casey will be a father by September. Many hugs and joys and good tidings are sent around the table and Tessa’s heart fills with a type of excitement and warmth that she’s never experienced before.

She’s going to be an aunt.

Huh. Strange. She sits beside her father and smiles brightly as she takes in all the good news, absorbing it and treasuring the moment. Her Dad, never one for overt displays, reaches over and wraps his arm around her, pressing a kiss to her temple. Glancing up at him, she sees what she suspects is a little glimmer in his eye, but of course, it could just as easily be a branch… or something.

By the time Jordan hops online and hears the news, Tessa feels like the interwebs are going to explode from Virtue excitement. Of course, that’s before Jordan drops her little bomb of news as well.

"I’M GETTING MARRIED!!!" She exclaims, holding up her hand to the screen, a diamond the size of Nova Scotia resting comfortably on her ring finger. Tessa’s jaw drops, her mom’s eyebrows shoot toward the ceiling, and everyone else falls silent.

See, Jordan has never been one to follow tradition and never seemed too keen on marriage in the past. Tessa knew Jordan and Mark, the same boyfriend she had last year when Tessa visited, were getting serious, but Tessa just figured… domestic life partners or some other type of nonsense.

But married!?!

"Wow! This is amazing! I’m so, so happy for you." Oddly, Tessa is the first to collect her bearings and starts to congratulate her sister, wishing so badly that she could reach through and hug her. Another round of merriment commences and by the time Tessa crawls into bed, her face hurts from smiling so much and she’s pretty sure she’s going to have a hangover from all the champagne she ingested.

After the Friday evening Tessa had, she’s pretty sure the ballet is going to take second place. Of course, as in all things lately, she is off the mark a bit. They catch an early train to New York and arrive at the hotel just in time for her first surprise. Her mom used credit card points to splurge on this getaway escape-type package, which includes massages, facials, and high tea in which they keep their pinkies up the whole time. The stores of New York make a pretty penny as well as Tessa and Kate visit their favorite places, racking up plenty of bills.

By the time the ballet rolls around, Tessa is practically floating from excitement. Glancing over at her mother, who is absolutely luminous (she can’t tell if it’s happiness or the freakishly expensive facial) she can’t help but feel, all the way down to her toes, absolutely thrilled. They have a delicious dinner at their favorite restaurant and fortifying discussion on Tessa’s concerns regarding the project in Uganda. When they arrive at the theater, she’s certain of her plans and at peace with her decisions.

The first half of Cinderella takes her breath away and leaves her in tears. In a good way, of course. She and her mother take intermission from their box seats in the VIP lounge and are waiting for their champagne when lo and behold, she spots Dr. Hightower standing with a very attractive man in his mid-fifties. Uncertain what she should do, her body operates on autopilot and carries her over to Dr. Hightower, who meets her halfway.

"Ah, Tessa, such a delight to see you! This must be your mother," Dr. Hightower kisses both Tessa’s cheeks and holds out a beautifully manicured hand to Kate, who shakes in kind.

After introductions are made Tessa inquires after Dr. Hightower’s presence at the ballet.

"My husband and I are donors to ABT. We attend most functions when we can. I have a daughter a little younger than you who dances in Chicago, as well. Thus we are longterm patrons of the arts."

"That’s marvelous," Kate replies and Tessa nods. Her mother inquires further into Dr. Hightower’s daughter as Tessa stands by, nodding. She’s somewhat dumbfounded. How did she not know that Hightower had a daughter? Every time she interacts with this woman it’s like another layer of intrigue falls away to reveal something equally complex.

"Jo, look at the time," Mr. Hightower notes with a thick English accent, before turning to Tessa. "Would you and your mother care to join us after the ballet? There’s always a hoity-toity gala after the premiere, and as donors we get to interact with the company and schmooze for a bit. Rather uppity, but it’s good for people watching."

Tessa immediately takes a shine to this strange man, wondering how two such drastically different people ended up together. Glancing at a bemused Dr. Hightower and then her mother who nods, Tessa smiles brightly in acquiescence. They agree to meet afterward in an adjoining hall and bid each other farewell.

The next three hours pass by in a daze of exceptional artistry and movement, then euphoria as she meets long-esteemed dancers, musicians, and well known benefactors of the metropolitan art community. She would be lying if she said her inner fangirl wasn’t doing backflips of excitement while trying to calm her outer self. Hard work.

Dr. Hightower and her mother seem to get along rather well, which surprises Tessa, if only because there’s a layer to Dr. Hightower that frightens her. She’s not sure why, but to become someone as powerful as her, she had to have developed a certain amount of shrewdness that tends to turn off her mother. Granted, her mother is also one of the most discerning, intelligent people she knows, so Tessa observes it all in contemplative silence.

Before departing New York, they have brunch at an unfamiliar restaurant, worth it, because the chocolate filled croissants are amazing. They climb onto the train with two more bags than they came down with, packed to the brim. The ride is quiet and ponderous, but serene.

Once they arrive at home to an empty house and a note that says ‘at the golf course’ from her father, Tessa prepares for a quick turnaround. Shoving all her newly acquired belongings into her car, she turns to face her mom and looks at her for a moment.

"I cannot thank you enough for this entire weekend. Start to finish, I’ve had one of the best times of my life."

Kate wraps Tessa into a tight hug, warm and comforting as all mother’s hugs are. “Yes, I made sure to engineer two very large pieces of news to occur on the same night, just to make this weekend even more exceptional.”

Chuckling, Tessa pulls away and gives her mom a kiss then heads to the driver’s side and opens the door. Before getting inside she turns once more to her mom who is bent over, picking a couple weeds out of a nearby flowerbed.

"Hey, mom?"

She turns and looks at Tessa, expectant. “Yes?”

"You’re going to be a grandmother."

The smile that crosses her face is what men write poems about.

.::.

In ten days, Scott and Tessa will be performing for Jeff and both are feeling ambivalent about the prospect. They’ve spent weeks developing the programs, but are only able to get feedback as often as their schedules allow them to get down to Montreal. In the meantime, they’ve taken to meeting with Jennifer Swann or her partner at the studio, Edgar. He’s loud, opinionated, and reminds Tessa very much of Jean-Marc Generaux.

"How am I supposed to be feeling right now?" Calls a dissatisfied Edgar from a random seat in the stands.

"Sad." "Conflicted." They both say at the same time.

"Exactly. Figure yourselves out," Edgar barks as he steps toward the boards. "Go… go get food, have a nice chat about the weather, I don’t care. But come back here with an idea of what you’re trying to convey, because I’ve seen seven-year-olds with better chemistry."

Scott scowls at the back of Edgar’s head, sighing in frustration. He has to admit, they have been off all day, but he’s in a terrible mood and having to spend it with Tessa isn’t making anything better. She’s been quiet, which never bodes well because it means she’s either worried, working through an issue, or finding the courage to tell him something he’s not going to like.

Slumping into their seats at the diner, they pick up their menus and look through it blindly, even though their orders never change. Their waitress comes over with their drinks, dropping off two chocolate milks and two ice waters, letting them know their food will be out shortly.

"Do you really think it’s that bad?" Tessa asks as she sips her chocolate milk through a straw.

"Nah. I just think Fly Me to the Moon looks a lot better in comparison."

"Yeah, well that one is light and fun, even though it’s crazy technical."

Scott smiles, “It is fun. I really like the change we did to that lift in the beginning. Jennifer was right, it makes it look much more professional.”

"I agree." Tessa places her glass down and sighs expectantly. "But Eavesdrop…"

"Let’s get this straight." Scott runs his hands through his hair, roughing it up. "Whatever’s going on between them is over and they don’t want it to end."

Tessa drops her gaze as he says this and Scott feels his cheeks flush. She clears her throat and swallows quickly, then looks back up at him.

"And so they hold on with all they’ve got?" Her voice curls over the words like smoke, her eyes shrouded with all that’s unspoken. He stares back at her for a beat too long, and they both know that they’re wandering into forbidden territory. Fortunately, their food arrives at that moment, Club Sandwich for him, soup and salad for her.

She starts picking at her food which clues him in to the fact that she still has something on her mind. “Why are you so quiet? Did something happen in Toronto a couple weeks ago? I mean, I know all your family stuff is crazy and AWESOME lately, but what else is up?”

Glancing up at him, she blinks hard and shakes her head, lost in thought. “Yeah, so… I had this meeting with Dr. Bouchard, my… benefactor? I guess? and the co-founder of the non-profit I worked with in Uganda.”

"Sounds like a super lame dad joke," Scott quips as she reaches over and tosses a fry at him.

"Anyway, earlier in the year I submitted this rough draft for the integration of a vocational center as part of post-conflict reconstruction. Dr Bouchard passed it along without my knowledge and now… things are spiraling out of control."

"I’m confused," Scott interrupts. "Which part do you have a problem with?"

She sighs, looking a mildly flustered. “Basically the co-founder, Jason, wants me to run this whole fund-raising campaign up here in Canada and generate the funds in order to put my proposal into action.”

"That’s great! Right?" Scott cheers, holding his hand up for a high-five, which she gives him. "Are they going to give you their assets and contacts?"

"Sort of, but…"

"And then they’re going to use the money you raise to create something you’re planning? All in the name of Canada? That’s amazing! Seriously. Wow, Tess. That’s… awesome."

Tessa gives him a weak smile, shaking her head. “That’s not the point though. I just… I never wanted to be in the spotlight on this. I just wanted to engineer a conceptual model that could be applied to many different countries post-conflict. Not use Uganda as my guinea pig. Besides, I have law school starting in the Fall. This is… it’s a lot.”

"I dunno, it sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me," Scott replies. "It’s not like we haven’t sold ourselves in the past to get the things we want. From how much you’ve been talking about it the past few months, some part of you really wants this project to come to fruition, so unless you plan on bankrolling it yourself, you’re going to have to bend somewhere."

Tessa chews the corner of her lip, thinking. “I know, I just… wish I didn’t have to do all the speaking. Posing for a couple pictures is one thing. Standing in front of thousands of people? Completely different.”

"And yet you do it with me all the time."

"Yeah, but it’s a bit different when I’m riding solo."

Scott wipes his mouth with his napkin and shrugs. “Tell ya what, if I’m available, I’ll come help you out. Just because I’m not getting some doctorate in the UN or whatever doesn’t mean I can’t support the cause, right?”

The way Tessa’s face lights up at his unexpected offer makes Scott’s heart pound against his chest. “That’s… that’s very generous,” her smile starts to fall, “but I can’t let you do that. I don’t want you to feel obligated —”

"Tess, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to do it. I agree with you, this is a worthwhile cause. I want to do my part to help."

She smiles sweetly, causing his thumping heart to start fluttering excitedly. When she starts talking again about the project and some photo shoot in Vancouver he feels his mood lifting and that stupid grin remerges on his face.

When they return to the rink, Edgar has yet to return, so they run through the program again, this time fully understanding what they’re trying to convey.

"Why’d you say ‘conflicted’ earlier when Edgar asked about this piece?" Scott asks.

"For the same reason you said it was sad. Except I think it works out for them," she replies as they edge close to the boards. When they move into a transition spiral, their faces are so close he can feel her breath on his lips, just the way they like it.

"Why’s that?" Scott whispers as the music ramps up into the climax. Tessa doesn’t reply, just offers him an enigmatic smile. He pulls her into their last lift as she pushes off his shoulder, spinning rapidly in a precarious hold, then she maneuvers her body around his, gripping him tightly at the designated areas until she’s resting on one foot in their final pose.

Foreheads together, their lips are almost touching, and their breaths are heavy and quick. Scott isn’t sure how long he holds her to him, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He just knows that he could maintain this position until the end of time.

"Finally! You two look like you know what you’re doing!" Edgar calls as he skates out onto the ice, causing them to pull apart. "I nearly wept, you two. That was beautiful, eh?"

Scott nods mutely, not trusting his voice. It feels like his body is humming, vibrating even. A glance at Tessa, cool as a cucumber as Edgar offers up a critique, makes Scott feel ridiculous for the feelings she generates. If only he looked a little longer, a little harder, he’d see that she can hardly focus her gaze and that her hands are shaking.

"Okay! This time, run through the top half, there were a couple areas that need polish…"

By the time Scott and Tessa leave the rink, they’re sore and tired. All Scott wants is his bed, maybe a beer or two beforehand. Tessa remains quiet beside him as they walk to their cars, most likely as exhausted as he. Possibly a little unsettled, but he’s certainly not going to ask.

"See you stupid early tomorrow for lessons with the kiddos," Tessa says as she waves casually.

"Yeah. I can’t believe we double stacked our days like this. What, do we think we’re athletes or something?"

Tessa smirks as she unlocks her car. “Or something. Night Scott.”

Scott nods as he climbs into the driver’s seat and heads home, surprised to find Shannon’s car parked out front. He sits in his truck for a moment, trying to clear his mind and calm his nerves. It’s starting to take longer and longer to set himself to rights after he spends time with Tessa. Not only that, but he can smell her on his clothes, something he’s sure Shannon has noticed, but never commented on.

He has genuine feelings for Shannon, he truly does. But when he’s with her, it feels like any other relationship he’s had, one that’s waiting for deeper feelings to form and grow. He’s not sure how he did it before, spend all his time with Tessa, then keep a part of himself for someone else. Perhaps he was redirecting his feelings for her onto other women.

No, that cheapens those relationships. There were legitimate feelings on both sides. But, like he said to Tom that one time, a lot of factors had to do with the dissolution of those relationships.

This time around, he’s putting a concerted effort into things with Shannon, but it’s like one step forward, two steps back every time he’s with Tessa. A while back, he made a lame joke that they were unwilling soul-mates. Now, he’s made comments in the past where he believes in other halves and such, but he’s not so sure anymore. How can a relationship with someone create a whole… entity? What he does know is that he’s never experienced nor seen the kind of connection he has with Tessa. Anywhere.

It’s hard to describe what he feels for her, because no words encompass the enormity of emotion and depth of knowledge. Love, sure, but it’s different than the burgeoning flicker in his heart for Shannon. Devotion? Yeah, okay. No, nothing does them justice.

One thing is becoming clear though: when he was seeing her daily, he never had the chance to contrast ‘normal’ life to ‘Tessa’ life. But now, her presence is something like a drug to him: dangerous and all consuming. Perhaps he never realized before how much she permeated his life. Maybe he didn’t want to.

Because really? Who meets the person they’re supposed to be with for the rest of their life when they’re nine? He’s spent his whole life begin told he and Tessa are perfect for each other, but it can never happen because of a multitude of reasons and excuses.

He lets out a loud sigh and shakes his head. No thanks , he thinks, I’ll do my best to stick with something a little more traditional than unfulfilled childhood dreams that have grown out of proportion with reality . Shannon is the safest bet he’s got, so he’s going to do his best to make it work.

When he walks inside his place, only a couple lights are on with the sound of a video game being played coming from his living room. Dropping his skate bag in the room with his hockey gear, he pads barefoot into the living room and watches Shannon absolutely demolish the enemy. She does this thing with her body when she plays, where she dodges out of the way of bullets and obstacles. It’s utterly endearing.

He watches her for a few minutes until she pauses the game and turns to him, sleepy grin on her face. He smiles in kind, happy to see her after such a grueling day.

"Hey you," she says brightly as she rises from the couch. "I stopped by the store on the way home and picked up some beer and those weird chips you like."

"Don’t knock my love for wasabi chips." Scott grins in gratitude as she walks up to him slowly, stretching like a cat along the way. She gives him a kiss then grabs his hand and pulls him into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she hands him a beer and pulls one out for herself, then slides across from him at his breakfast table.

"Good day at work?" Scott asks as she settles in.

"The best!" She replies, beaming. "We had this trauma earlier, it was insane. Blood and bones and guts everywhere. But you know what? Everything went great, start to finish. It was textbook perfect. This place can’t hold a candle to the traumas I saw in Atlanta, but it has it’s moments."

"Oh I bet. So everyone lived? Did you save a life?" It’s thing they always say to each other, half joking, half serious. Working in the business of life and death creates a morbid type of humor.

"Ha yeah, I sure did. A few, actually. You look tired," she observes as she reaches over and brushes back some of his hair. "Hows everything going?" Scott watches her for a moment, trying to discern if her interest is genuine or if she’s just fishing.

"It’s good." Scott takes a swig. "We both started out really tired and we were having problems emoting or something like that. Our… choreographer made us take a break and figure it all out. So it’s good now." Scott pauses to reflect, "I think."

Shannon nods as she folds a leg beneath her. “I don’t quite get how this all works. So you you pick your music, choreograph your program, then perform, right? And you still have coaches to make sure it looks okay? You used to, right?”

Scott nods, eyes narrowing. “Do you really want to know how all this works? Because I can go for hours.”

"Well," Shannon takes a sip of her beer and gives him a wink. "It’s obvious you love doing this. You listen to me talk about work all the time. I think it’s a fair trade."

"Okay…" Scott shakes his head, grinning. "You asked for it."

.::.

Tessa meets with her agent Tony three more times before they can iron out the particulars of what she’s doing with the non-profit. Lots of lawyers are involved. Long meetings. She’s not even sure if it’s worth it.

In the meantime, she also meets with a rep from Lululemon a couple times. The company had contacted Tony interested if she and a couple other elite athletes would be interested in promoting a new line of fall and winter gear. Tessa gives full disclosure about her ties with her non-profit, which also gets turfed to another legal department.

During one of the meetings, Tessa proposes that it would be a great idea to have additional support with the campaign, not just well-known athletes, but genuine coaches and instructors as well. The creative team takes a shine to the idea and gets to business. Tessa enlists the aid of her seventy-three year old yoga instructor in London and her friend who owns the Pilates studio in Toronto. It’s agreed that the shoot will be held in Vancouver at the Lululemon Headquarters in mid-may, which is roughly around the tail-end of SOI this year.

All in all, she’s ridiculously busy leading up into SOI, meeting with Scott only when they skate. The one and only exception is when Paul and Sarah have a group of friends over for dinner and they’re both invited. Shannon was supposed to come, something Scott wasn’t too keen on because he has yet to introduce her and Tessa, but she had to cover a shift at the last minute and had to back out.

Instead, Scott picks up Tessa promptly at six and they head over to Paul’s lake house which is about half an hour away. Conversation is steady as they both have pre-SOI plans to solidify, plans after the tour, and then what exactly she has to do during the tour.

"Wait wait wait, woah. Let me get this straight. They expect you to go to campuses on your off-days or even travel days, to talk to students?"

Shrugging, Tessa nods. “Yeah, it’s all kinda crazy. It’s only three talks right now, because most Unis will either be out of session or in the middle of finals. I don’t think they fully grasp how limited my schedule is.”

"Have you told them? I mean, that’s crazy. Straight up. You’re pretty talented and all, but I don’t think you’ve mastered time-travel yet."

"No, that’s next year." Tessa sighs. She looks out the window, confused with the direction he’s taken. "Hey weren’t you supposed to turn left back there?"

"Yes." Scott replies, driving onwards. "Remember that surprise I mentioned about a month ago?"

"Yeah…"

He turns up a gravel path that leads them along a winding road. It’s been over a week since it’s snowed, so the terrain isn’t too challenging to cover. When he pulls into an open clearing he throws his truck into park and unlocks the doors, climbing out. Tessa follows suit, intrigued. He leads her a little farther through the clearing until he stops suddenly, Tessa nearly smacking into him.

"Excuse you," Scott replies with a grin. "I believe the correct etiquette is to knock when entering someone’s home."

Genuine confusion crosses Tessa’s features as she looks around, taking a step back. They’re on a rolling embankment which leads down to the lake, still mostly frozen, and the clearing is densely lined with naked trees, save for a spectacular view of the lake. Slowly it starts to sink in what he’s saying, but she’s not quite sure she gets it.

"Wait… this is… all of this is yours? I don’t understand."

He laughs at her reaction, “I’ve been storing money away for a while now. I saw this lot for sale last year when me and a bunch of the guys came out for a beercation. Scouted out the property, figured out all the important things like if there’s a gas line, do I need to have a well, all that stuff. So, yeah. I signed the papers a couple weeks ago.”

She keeps spinning around slowly, scanning the area, taking in his news. Scott owns this. All this land is his. That view is his. That tree is his. This stupid rock she’s kicking is his. Holy… wow.

"I can’t believe it," she shakes her head, still in a state of disbelief. Glancing up at him she realizes he’s been watching her closely, waiting for her reaction. She wears the brightest smile she’s got and gives him the tightest hug imaginable.

"This is amazing. I’m so proud of you. So proud. This is huge! I can’t believe it. I thought you wanted a farm though?"

"Eh, I have some acreage a little more inland that I can have for that kinda thing, but after finding myself loving firefighting so much, I decided that I should stick with what I know for right now."

He studies her some more, watching as she walks over to a tree, runs her hand up along the bark, pulling at a twig until it breaks free. She seems shocked, not necessarily in a bad way, but thrown all the same.

"Well," she turns to him, holding out her arms. "Give me the grand tour, Mr. Moir. Where is everything going to be?"

He grins widely and jogs over to the edge of the clearing and picks up the driest stick he can find, then uses it to plot out his future home. By the time they get to debating as to how large his back porch should be, they’ve become officially late to dinner and he gets a concerned text from Paul.

They arrive to Pauls five minutes later, flushed and apologetic. Scott drops the news that he will be their neighbor within the next three years, much to everyone’s delight.

Mostly everyone’s, but Tessa keeps mum. She doesn’t know how she feels.

Dinner is delicious and full of good humor and cheer. It’ll be the last meal Tessa and Scott share with their friends before they go on tour, so they both take their time to savor the moment, reveling in the laughter and conversation.

When Scott drops off Tessa, she says something to him that seems innocuous at the time, but when he’s going to bed that night, her words pop in his head agin. Sometimes, he can’t tell if it’s her voice or his conscience, they both sound similar in his mind. Regardless, these words ping and clamor in his mind: Look at all you’ve accomplished! You’ve done so well for yourself. And now you have everything you could ever want.

But does he?

.::.

It’s two days before Scott leaves for tour and things aren’t going that great. He had a rough day at work, got his ass chewed by his captain for being somewhat of a cowboy, then had a ridiculous argument with Shannon after having a wonderful dinner with her and her father. As a result, he’s at his place, instead of enjoying the last of his time with her for three weeks.

Things have been pretty great between them, slowly she’s been opening up more about her childhood and her estrangement from her mother. He knows she misses her brothers, but from the way she tells the story, she wouldn’t even be able to enter the state without having to deal with her mother. Which in her current state of pre-board exam stress, she cannot handle at the moment. He decides to hold off until after her exams before delving into that topic.

The other issue is job placement. She was offered a job as attending at the same hospital in London, but she also applied to work at the same facility as her father in Toronto before she even met Scott. Granted they’ve only been dating for six months, he hopes she’s aware of how invested he is in this relationship and that he would greatly appreciate it if she would stay in London. That, he decides, is something she should know before he leaves on tour.

Around one in the morning, Norma Jean shoots up in bed and barks, growling when a petite red-head removes her jacket and shoes and climbs into bed beside him.

"I’m sorry I was such a bitch earlier. I have absolutely no excuse."

Scott reaches out and tucks her into his side. “I understand, but please don’t shut me out. I can’t help what I don’t know. And you don’t make it very easy for me.”

"I know, I know. I’m working on it, I swear. I just… Give me two more weeks until after my boards. We’ll get away after you wrap up your tour. I promise."

Staring at the ceiling, Scott takes in a slow breath and exhales. “Okay. After tour and your boards, we’ll get away. You and me.”

"And Norma Jean."

She barks once in agreement. Scott sighs. Shannon giggles.

All he has to do is make it through the tour, no harm no foul.

.::..::.::.


	14. 10.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She feels the exact moment he loses control.

.::.::.::.

Tour is great. Tour is marvelous. Swell. Grand. Every other synonym in the book.

It’s also kicking Scott’s ass.

On one hand, he’s got the practices and the demanding routine, old friends and camaraderie. On the other, he’s back to being around Tessa full time, which is something he’s been preparing for mentally for a while now. He was doing pretty good until about two hours ago.

It wasn’t anything major that she did, just a simple gesture that she’s been doing their entire lives that reminds him of how much history they have.

They were at the airport in the security line. He started patting his pockets frantically for his ticket, when half-awake Tessa turned and handed it to him without comment. She didn’t even have to look, she just knew what he was searching for. Not only that, but she had it the whole time. Why? Because she always holds onto their tickets and passports while he takes care of the big luggage when they check in at the airport.

It’s a seamless, unspoken system they’ve developed. Old hands.

But it gets him to thinking about all the other things they do for each other without thinking. Like reflex. He holds open the door, she gets him a water when she buys a magazine. She always takes the inner seat while waiting at the airport terminal because he doesn’t like it when people bump his arm. He always offers up his neck pillow first to her, which she never accepts, even though she falls asleep on his shoulder ten minutes later. She carries the motrin, he has the granola bars and bananas. When they board, they go their separate ways. They both like window seats and rarely sit together on flights.

But that’s not it. He can continue for hours. She even knows what color underwear he prefers to wear before competitions. That invasive. That depth of knowledge.

It messes with his head, the awareness that Shannon will never fully comprehend what he was, what he is. No one will fully comprehend it except his family, and the ones who have seen his struggle and push through all the hardship.

Then again, when she calls him with a voice completely devoid of color and her usual enthusiasm, he realizes that he’ll never fully grasp her path either. But that’s what being in a relationship is all about, give and take and compromise. He’ll have to give a piece of himself to get something from her in return.

Shannon informs him that she’s completed her board exam and intends to sleep for a solid 80 million hours. He also learns that his mom dropped off dinner for her. Scott sent flowers, but those don’t taste as good as his mom’s cooking. His brother Charlie kindly sent a bottle of celebratory champagne, as well. She promises to save it until he returns so they can drink it out of his prized beer stein.

As the tour continues, Scott suffers through the interrogation from their mothers as they remark on how skillful and intricate Fly Me to the Moon is, and how devastating Eavesdrop makes them feel. Because it is absolutely soul-crushing. He suffers through fan encounters and interviews who fawn over their chemistry and a kaleidoscope of comments that hit too close to home. He carries it on through after-show outings, through dancing and drinking and late night poutine runs.

Tessa remains blissfully unaware, or so he thinks. Occasionally he catches her watching him, but he can’t tell what she’s thinking. She’s gotten much better at hiding her thoughts, which is alarming, because she was already pretty good at hiding her pain. He had to study her as one would an exotic creature to learn her tells.

But that was when they were younger. He has no reason to do that now, because he doesn’t need to be inside her head anymore. He doesn’t have the right.

So if she watches him a little too long, or if her lips brush against his in a less than platonic manner when they skate, or if she laughs too much, he has no real reason to ask about it. Because maybe she’s been doing it all along and he never noticed that either.

Tessa ends up with a total of four speaking engagements for her fund-raising campaign of which he attends three. The first is a little rough, the turn out is poor due to scheduling and the team at the university hadn’t received all the promotional materials from the non-profit in time for the event. It gives Tessa quite the anxiety attack, but that is why Scott offered to come. The next two go much better, great interest, funds are generated, and she gets a ton of followers on her official non-profit twitter account.

He congratulates himself the day after SOI wraps in Vancouver, pleased that he survived unscathed, mostly. His first mistake is agreeing to go dancing. His second mistake is taking shots with Andrew and Patrick. His third mistake is getting sandwiched between Kaitlyn and Meagan. Wait, no that is not a mistake, that is an excellent decision. Would repeat again. No, the third mistake is taking a break to check on Tessa’s whereabouts only to discover that some hulky-looking idiot is dancing with her and has wildly roaming hands. He doesn’t interfere because Tessa knows what she’s comfortable with, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch.

It isn’t jealousy he is feeling, it is… irritation. He thinks. He’s not sure. He doesn’t want to think about it.

Instead, he spends his free afternoon watching a baseball game at Shangri-La’s hotel bar waiting for Tessa who has just wrapped her last speaking engagement. Both she and Scott are remaining in Vancouver for a few more days because he has a segment to tape for the network, and Tessa has the photo shoot with Lululemon tomorrow morning.

She breezes in, slides next to him at the bar and chews an ice cube, completely forlorn as she eyes his plate brimming with food. Because of the photo shoot, she’s doing what all people do before a shoot, restricting fluid and food intake. It makes her crabby. He taunts her with his giant burger, she gets huffy and agrees to meet with him the following afternoon.

.::.

Today, it’s Tessa waiting for him at the bar. It’s mid afternoon and they have a semi-fancy dinner to attend for one of the charitable organizations they support. Her hair is down, her long legs are crossed, and she’s dressed in a very fitted knee-length dress. Now Tessa does many things very well, but wearing cocktail dresses is something at which she excels.

She gives him a warm smile, straightens his tie, and slides over an Old Fashioned as she sips her martini.

"Afternoon drinking?"

"The event is dry," she replies before sipping. "I figured it would make the fluff talks more bearable."

He clinks his glass with hers, nodding. They discuss the shoot and the good time she had. She inquires after a rumor she heard about one of the hockey players he met with earlier. They continue the smack talk during the ride to the venue and upon arrival. They smile and pose for pictures, greeting old friends along the way.

They’re having a great night, pleased dinner was catered by a fantastic company. Tessa is much more pleasant when fed and sharing good conversation. Her mood is infectious, lifting Scott to a type of ebullience he hasn’t felt in a while. They meander around the room, chatting with various athletes and donors, individuals who are supported by their efforts. It’s a reciprocal sense of good will that follows them to dessert and a nightcap with a random assortment of people who are also staying at their hotel.

After midnight, they board the elevator, warm and content. He glances over at Tessa who’s leaning against the wall with a crooked smile on her face. He raises an eyebrow and she does the same in reply.

"One more drink?" Scott asks, realizing they only pressed the button for his floor.

She nods in reply, following him as the door slides open. “Only one. I’ve got places to go and people to see tomorrow before my flight.”

"So important you are," Scott replies as he swipes the key and they enter his room. She takes a seat on the couch as he goes to the minibar and pulls out a couple options, knowing she’ll go for the white wine in a bottle. Because that’s her ‘I’m going to bed soon’ drink.

She takes it without question and settles back as he takes a seat in the arm chair opposite her. They fall into discussion again that ranges from comical to serious to ludicrous. Once she starts giggling and can’t stop he knows it’s time to call it a night.

But he doesn’t.

And neither does she.

They lapse into a silence that wraps around their clothes, whispers possibilities into their ears, clings thickly to their tongues. She watches condensation glaze around the base of the wine glass, golden hued and mesmerizing. It’s the only thing that holds her gaze longer than Scott, and right now the wine is the much safer option.

But then he clears his throat and lets out a self-conscious laugh, shaking his head to himself. It draws her attention, much like everything about him. Once again, she finds herself transfixed by the length of his eyelashes, how they make his eyes seem darker. How defined the angle of his jaw is as he clenches it intermittently.

Eyes that are watching her just as closely, connecting the faint freckles on her cheeks, tracing the way the light moves across her face. He opens his mouth at the same time as her, but thankfully she gets the words out first. To save herself, save them, from the ever present pull that is overcoming their will.

"It’s getting late, I should go." Tessa drains her glass and stands gracefully. Scott rises as well, following her to the door. "Thanks for your help today, I appreciate it."

Once she reaches the door, she turns around and gives Scott a smile. “We still on for breakfast tomorrow? I know you’ve got to get to the station eventually, but…” She loses her train of thought, lost in how dark Scott’s eyes have grown. She knows that look, craves it even. She also knows that it’s a bad idea. She should leave.

She summons every last bit of willpower she has and gives him a pointed look, causing Scott to blink hard and shake his head slightly. He huffs out a laugh and continues her thread of forgotten questioning, but she misses it, distracted by the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"Hmmm?"

"But we should get food?" He doesn’t step any closer, but she feels like he grows taller. More, somehow. Strange.

"Yeah. Food," she nods dumbly. "Yes. I’ll text you when I’m awake. Okay?"

She watches as he works his jaw, nodding slowly. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

"Okay, night," she says as she turns toward the door, taking another step to pull it open. Except it doesn’t open, because Scott places his hand against the door, halting her progress.

Tessa leans her head against the door, exhaling slowly as she feels him press against her, his nose buried in her hair. His free hand pulls her hair aside, exposing her neck, then traces along the bare strip of back exposed by her dress, down her spine and around to her hip, clutching her tight against him.

She feels the exact moment he loses control.

His grip tightens in such a way that lets her know that leaving is no longer an option. She sucks in a breath and moves her head against the smooth wood of the door. His breath is hot against her skin and his tongue and lips are even moreso. She lets out a moan as he hits the sweet spot along the curve between her neck and shoulder, shutting her eyes so tightly she sees stars.

When she turns to face him, they watch each other for a moment, breathing heavy with dark eyes. She reaches out first, running her hand up the buttons on his shirt, the muscles fluttering beneath her touch. When she reaches his loosened tie, she pulls it like a leash and his lips crash against hers.

It’s frantic and wanting, hands going everywhere all at once. She removes his tie quickly, unbuttoning his shirt in the same manner. He bites her lip too hard. She scratches his back. He pulls away, smoothing the hair from her face, kissing her forehead, the apple of her cheek, the corner of her mouth, the apex of her jaw, the top of her heart. Her hips buck against his when his hand grips under the curve of her buttock, bringing her leg towards his hardness.

Words are whispered, mostly unintelligible.

She sighs when his belt gets caught on her dress. He laughs when he can’t find her zipper. She bites her lip hard when his hand slides up toward the apex of her thighs. He grunts when her hips bracket his, perfect and inviting. Her legs tighten around him when his thumb traces along the border of her thong, slipping beneath the fabric, edging closer.

They realize halfway through that her dress is too tight to move higher and that his pants needed to be off much sooner. He only has two operating brain cells and both are declaring that he needs her now, so badly. Hers agree as she squeezes his shoulders, grinding purposefully against him.

"Bed. Go to the bedroom," she grits out, calling some sense into them. He agrees and starts to do her bidding with her clutched tightly around him, kisses wild and messy.

Unfortunately, real life is not like the movies. Unfortunately, real life has obstacles. Unfortunately, real life has goddamn console tables that cause Scott to stumble, trip on the rug, and nearly knock Tessa out against the coffee table as he falls to the floor.

"Shit, are you okay?" Scott asks from above her, checking her head carefully.

Tessa reaches up, fingers tangling with his. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

Slightly dazed, she looks up at him, breathing heavy and heart thumping. Reaching up, she traces his jaw, runs her hand down his bare chest. She can see the love and desire in his eyes. She can also see the exact moment reality sets in and the guilt that sweeps over his countenance.

He pulls back, sitting on his haunches as he places his hands on his waist, eyes shut tight so as to imagine this situation away. That’s not a good feeling - lying on the floor, being imagined away.

Tessa sits up quickly, pulling down her skirt and sliding backward, fumbling with her zipper. Scott does the same, leaning against a chair opposite with his knees pulled to his chest. They remain this way for a few minutes until Tessa breaks the silence, her voice brittle and cautious.

"Do you ever think about that day? Back in London?"

"I do." He nods, working his jaw. "All the time."

She keeps her head bowed, “What was wrong with it?”

Brow furrowed he turns to her. “Nothing. It was perfect.”

She looks up at him, confusion evident.

"The problem with perfect, Tess, is that you can’t maintain it. It doesn’t last forever. I’d rather have one perfect day with you, than months of mediocrity or constant bickering that tears us down and makes us miserable."

"That’s what we’d have? Mediocrity or misery?"

Scott shrugs. “I think you have this romantic idea in your head of how life would be like with me. Except that’s not how it would work at all. And I’d rather us maintain what we have now, than ruin everything because you’re living in a fairy tale.”

"A fairy tale? Scott, I know you better than anyone. I know which drawer you like to keep your socks in, I know that you drink straight out of the orange juice container, I know that you keep a toothbrush with you at all times because that bitch in high school spread a rumor that you’ve got bad breath. I know that if you had to, you’d save a kid over an adult any day. I know that your family is the most important thing to you and there is absolutely nothing you wouldn’t do for them. I’m not living under a delusion, but maybe you are."

Scott doesn’t reply, just clamps his mouth shut and stares at the floor. Realizing he’s not going to say anything, Tessa rises slowly, smoothing her hands along her skirt. “I don’t know what you’re so afraid of, Scott. It’s just me.”

Once the door clicks shut, he lets out a long breath, and slouches down further against the chair. He bangs his head against the back several times, mentally admonishing himself in self-reproach.

This has to stop. He needs to end it.

.::.

When Tessa wakes from a dreamless sleep, it’s to the sound of her phone, ringing incessantly. She squints at the screen and frowns.

"Dr. Bouchard? How are you?"

"Hello my dear. We have a problem…"

.::.

No one answers when Scott knocks. Unsurprising, but that doesn’t stop him from doing it again and again.

"Excuse me, Sir, but no one is in there," says a cleaning woman.

"Is the luggage still there?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"Okay, thanks," Scott nods as he backs away. He pulls out his phone and checks it again, no text messages or calls. Not that he’s surprised after what happened the previous night. That doesn’t take away from his need to ensure that she’s okay, however.

He considers checking areas she frequents when they’re in town, but instead he takes a seat in the lobby and keep his eyes glued to the entry.

Tessa returns to the hotel two hours later walking through the lobby like a zombie who’s been hit by a semi-truck. Her face is bare, her features are wan, and her eyes are dull. Concerned, he rises immediately to follow her, missing the elevator by a fraction. When he gets to her room, he resumes the same knock he had before, this time met with a different response.

She opens the door without a greeting and turns away, leaving it open. He walks inside and shuts the door behind him, wary. Her suitcase is open on the bed, mostly packed, save for a few items. he glances around, ambivalent.

"What’s going on? Is this about last night?"

The blood-freezing look she gives him tells Scott that it is not. She shakes her head as she rolls up her computer cord, storing it in her stylish carryon bag. By her jaunty movements and the flush in her cheeks, he realizes this is something more important than a bad decision in a moment of weakness.

"Tess, what’s wrong?"

She continues stomping around, more for the sake of stomping than anything else. Finally she stops and lets out the longest breath he’s ever heard, leaning against the window at the far side of the room.

"Dr. Bouchard called this morning to inform me that my program lost accreditation, which makes my class probationary and not guaranteed entry to the law program. All the work I’ve done is also considered probationary, which means I will not get published. In addition to that, the program director who is well known and widely respected, was discovered to be having an affair with a student, someone I know." She pauses, taking a breath. "As a result, the graduate review board has convened to determine whether or not they want to continue the collaborative program as they have no faith in it’s leadership. Five of the eight of us have already transferred schools. With such low enrollment, it appears they’re going to dissolve the program."

Scott sits quietly as she deflates, not fully understanding the problem, but knowing that it is problematic. He keeps his voice gentle, not wanting to set her off.

"So what does that mean, exactly?"

Tessa looks up at him, bleary-eyed. “It means I just wasted the last year of my life! It means I’m screwed. It means I might have to start all over again, but somewhere new and not close.”

The borderline hysteria in her tone not withstanding, he’s pretty certain the situation isn’t as bad as she’s making it out to be. How bad could it be, really? The problem with being a perfectionist is that it makes them inflexible and prone to meltdowns when situations outside their control arise. This is an excellent example of such an occurrence.

"What next then?"

Tessa sighs as she checks her phone, shaking her head. “I don’t know. I’ve got to go to that meeting at the university and then Dr. Bouchard is going to get back to me.”

He remains seated for a few moments, watching as she tosses a couple other items into her suitcase and then gathers her clothing for the day. The way she looks at him reminds Scott of the way she’d act when she needed to take a break from skating and spend time with an ice bag on her shins. He takes a step forward and starts to raise his arms to pull her into a comforting hug, but she takes a step back and shakes her head once. A warning.

"I’m going to take a shower before I head to the airport. I’ll let you know if anything changes."

As the bathroom door shuts behind her and the water starts running, Scott remains still, staring at the door. There’s only been a few times that she’s flat out refused his touch; it typically precedes a blazing argument. He lets himself out of her room and heads to the station, hoping she’ll be a little more reasonable this afternoon.

When he returns, it’s later than he would like. She’ll be heading to the airport soon enough while he remains behind another three days to film the additional segment with the team. While he’s been in meetings and intro taping, he’s been thinking about Tessa and their whole situation. It’s not like he wants to add to her stress, but she needs to know how he feels, because he can’t…

After he receives her text, he takes the elevator to the rooftop patio and spots her sitting on a bench, wrapped in a sweater against the early evening chill. She’s been outside for a while, judging by the empty cup of large iced tea. She seems calmer now, less freak-out mode and more damage-control.

"So? Any word?"

"Yup," Tessa sighs, crossing her legs smoothly. "Fortunately, when I applied to graduate schools, I was also accepted at University of Toronto. I chose my current program at Westurn based on the course offerings and that it’s much more affordable, even if not ranked as well. But now… since I was already accepted, they’re waiving my and another student’s applications for this year. To stay with my current class, I will have to switch to their thesis based-program, however. It won’t require much classroom time, but requires more research."

"Which means…"

"I’ll be interning with a non-profit for the entire summer."

Scott frowns, already knowing the next part. “Let me guess… in Uganda.”

"Yes." She says it with a type of resolve that means she’s already told her family. "I leave in less than a week."

"Oh that’s… that’s soon." He doesn’t even know what to say. This wasn’t what he expected. He shoves his hands in his pockets and extends his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. "How… do you feel about it?"

Shrugging, she lets out a breath, shaking her head. “I don’t even know. Everything happened so quickly, I don’t think it’s hit me yet.”

Scott nods, as they fall into a stilted silence. He clears his throat a couple times as he shifts his position. It’s a nervous habit of his, which draws Tessa’s attention. She holds her breath, waiting as he works up the courage to say whatever it is that has him nervous.

"Maybe it will be good for you. To get away for a while. You know, go travel and explore and do what you love."

"This isn’t exactly the greatest circumstance under which to be doing that," she frowns as she considers his words. "Good for me, or good for you?”

It takes him a moment, but he responds. “I think it’ll be good for us. Space and all that. Get perspective.”

"Perspective? Oh what exactly?"

He’s not sure what to say without it coming out wrong. So he fumbles a reply, “On… things. Stuff. Us. You know.”

Chancing a look in her direction, she’s got her, ‘I just got done throwing down in the locker room’ face and it’s a bit unnerving.

"Okay, then. Wow, you finally took my advice," she says quietly as she turns her gaze to track a runner along the path. Something about her tone makes him sit a little straighter, like she’s warming up for something.

"What advice?"

"You found a good one. I mean… she must be for you to look at me with the kind of regret you had last night.”

Except for two occasions, he’s never once mentioned Shannon to Tessa. He worked very hard. Very hard to keep those two parts of his life separate. But by doing that, perhaps Tessa was unaware how much he feels for Shannon. Of course, his moment of weakness last night did nothing to help her understanding.

"Tess —"

"No, don’t do that," she interrupts. "We’ve had this conversation so many times, I know what you’re going to say. I know she’s great. I know your family loves her. Paul says if there was anyone he could see you settling down with, it would be her. That’s awesome." She rises from her position as her voice climbs.

"But if she’s so great and things are going so well, why did you almost fuck me against your door last night?” She says the last part with a grittiness that leaves her throat raw and his chest hurting.

"That’s not fair, Tessa."

"No, what’s not fair is you looking me in the face and asking me to like her too, what’s not fair is you acting like it wasn’t a big deal or like it was a mistake." Her eyes are grey-green and steely as she forces out her words with vehemence. "Don’t ask me to stand by and watch you fall in love with her, and then skate with me like I’m the only thing keeping you alive."

He blanks for a second, preparing a rebuttal. Typically he’s much better than her when arguing, but she’s prepared today, which means she’s been sitting on this for a while. His mind runs in a circle before settling.

"Last time this happened, Tessa, the last time I laid it all out for you and told you how I felt… you said no. You said you’d didn’t think we ‘fit’ well as people outside of skating. And then I was left standing there like an idiot."

"Scott," she shakes her head as her face flushes. "I never said no. I said not yet. There’s a difference. I wanted to see who we were once we got past our skating careers. Not only that, but when you ’laid it out’ for me, you’d been single for all of 48 hours and had just come off a crazy bender. Directly after, you dated half the single women in our hometown. How was I supposed to feel?”

"It was nothing! They meant nothing." Scott growls. He also stands, facing her.

"God! You drive me so crazy sometimes," Scott replies, voice creeping higher, louder. "I don’t want to go through this again. I won’t. I can’t."

"Go through what? We haven’t gone through anything."

"Don’t blame me for that, Tessa. How many times in the past have I told you how I felt, only for you to shut me down. How many?"

"Half the time I couldn’t even tell if you meant it! You always contradicted yourself a day later. Not only that, but it was always our career first, that was what we agreed upon. Can you really blame me for choosing to date someone who wasn’t as inconstant as you?"

"Don’t pretend. Fedor? Ryan? Steve? Seriously? You were hiding."

"Me!? What about you? You’re doing it right now!"

"What? You think I’m hiding behind my relationship with Shannon? No. I’m choosing to be with her. She’s smart and funny and kind and I feel better when I’m around her.”

"Feel better? What does that even mean?"

"It means I don’t feel like some loser who rides around in a pickup truck and works a blue-collar job. Do you know how often people ask me what I do now, and they give me this look like, ‘wow, such a disappointment’ it’s awful."

"But it’s not! What you do is great! You give back to our community and you have a solid career that you love. Have I ever made you feel like that?"

"No, not directly. But then people ask about you and they nod like, ‘see, why can’t you be like Tessa?"

"No they don’t! If anything, you’re projecting Scott. No one feels like that. And certainly not me. Either way, I still don’t understand what that has to do with us."

He doesn’t reply for a moment, frowning. “It’s just really hard, being around you all the time. Even the show. It’s… it’s not fun anymore.” He lies, but Tessa believes him, because why would he lie about that?

“Okay, then that brings us back to the same position we were in last year, Scott.” Tessa keeps her hands shoved in her pockets, fists balled up tightly. “Do you even want to skate with me anymore?”

Scott closes his eyes tightly as her question hangs in the air. It’s so hard, trying to be honest and knowing the pain it’s going to cause.

“I don’t know,” he replies, his tone defeated.

There is a beat of silence in which he can actually hear the breath leave her lungs, as though he punched her. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t want to see the pain he’s causing.

“You said you’d never let your personal feelings affect our skating,” she forces the words out like gravel through her teeth. “You always said that no matter what happened off the ice, you’d still want to skate with me. No matter what.”

“I know that,” Scott sighs, hating having his words thrown in his face. “But that was before… before I realized that I can’t actually move on with you around.”

“Move on? Why do you need to move on? I am right here, Scott!”

“Yeah, but for how long!? You just told me you’re spending the summer in Uganda, who knows where the hell you’re going to be by winter. Toronto or Calgary or England. I can’t keep putting my life on hold while you’re out there living yours.”

“What have you put on hold? You’ve got a solid career, a successful girlfriend who is adored by your family, and you just started designing your dream home. If that’s putting your life on hold, then I can’t imagine what else there is left to accomplish.” Her sarcastic tone is quick and biting, leaving Scott feeling raw.

“Skating. That’s what I mean,” his volume level is climbing with his frustration. “I want to pursue coaching.”

“Why can’t you do that with me?” The light catches off her eyes and he can see unshed tears as her voice breaks.

“Because I keep losing myself with you!” He nearly yells, getting to the root of the problem finally. “I’m with this…. this amazing woman who makes me so damn happy, someone that I can actually see a future with. But then when I’m with you I forget everything else and it’s… it’s like I’m walking on air. It’s amazing. Until I remember that I don’t get to keep you, or I’m not good enough, or that you have seven other commitments and I crash back to earth, empty-handed.”

“So you’re saying I make you feel like shit?”

“No, no that’s not —“

“It is though. I make you miserable,” she summarizes, swiping at her tears. He thinks about it a beat too long and his absence of a reply is more of a confirmation than any justification he could provide. She leans against the railing for a moment, staring blindly ahead. He watches as the tears slide down her cheeks, biting her bottom lip tightly. “Wow.” The word escapes like a puff of air and she shakes her head quickly, clearing her daze.

“Okay then,” she says finally, her voice is small and brittle. “If that’s… if that’s what you want.”

“I don’t know if that’s what I want. I just know that I can’t figure out how to keep you in my life right now.”

She pushes off from the railing and zips her sweater all the way to the top. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m leaving then.”

He listens as her boots click along the slate of the terrace, down the endless way until she boards the elevator. It strikes him then that he’s left with what he’s been afraid of all along: an empty hand and no partner.

.::.

Tessa spends the next four days alternating between crying and packing, sometimes both. She’s not sure if it’s because Scott ended their skating career or if it’s because he ended their… friendship. Because that’s what he did, essentially.

She ignores phone calls from most of her friends, many of them begging to grab last minute coffee and a chance to say goodbye. Funny, they only want to see her when she’s leaving for a while, but have no time for her when her schedule is wide open. Her mom stops by daily, ensuring she’s eaten and showered, fretting silently when Tessa gives her a thunderous look and warns her not to say a word.

Then she realizes what a petulant brat she’s being and pulls her mother over to her couch and curls into her warmth, seeking the solace she provides unconditionally. At this point, Tessa isn’t even sure why she’s crying anymore, she just is. It’s completely bewildering.

Most people suspect Tessa is taking her internship because of the challenges with her program at school — that and it’s a wonderful opportunity. They would be 90% correct, because holy hell what else is she supposed to do?

Her brittle smiles and taciturn mood could be chalked up to anxiety and excitement, not a broken heart. Because that is exactly what it is: wide and gaping and completely torn apart. Still she pushes on, methodically packing her bag, exchanging emails with an excited Aimee, and venting much of her frustration at the gym.

After returning home from a farewell dinner with her family, she takes a long shower, savoring every last minute of it in preparation for the weak ones she’ll be getting for months to come. She goes to her kitchen and grabs the remaining pint of ice cream, also something she knows she’ll miss, and takes a seat on her front porch, enjoying the unusually warm breeze.

When Scott’s truck pulls up in front of her place, she briefly considers dashing inside and pretending she’s not home, but she lacks the energy and the desire. Norma Jean trots ahead to lick Tessa’s bare knee and have a head rub. Scott walks up slowly, holding a rectangular object in his hand.

“Can I sit?” Scott motions to the spot beside her. Tessa slides over a little bit, making room before he takes a seat. They sit quietly for a few moments, the only sound between them is a spoon scraping the edge of the container.

“You sure you want to do this?” Scott asks quietly.

Tessa nods assuredly. “There’s nothing for me here right now. Everyone else is moving full speed ahead, getting engaged, having babies, and I’m just going in reverse. I need to go somewhere that will make me feel useful.”

Scott nods, but keeps his gaze directed forward. Tessa watches a portly man walking his bulldog, both moving with a similar trot. She absently notes that owners and pets truly do start to resemble each other after a while.

“I brought you this.” Scott grabs the kit at his side and hands it over. “I always keep it with me whenever we go camping. It’s got all sorts of weird stuff in it like those iodine tabs so you can drink sketchy water, band aids, fish hooks, you name it.”

“Let me guess, your mom came up with this,” Tessa says as she opens up the container, peering at its contents. There’s even motrin and those pink tabs for a sore stomach.

“Of course. Had to come up with something after Danny got lost coming home from camping that one time. Scared her to death. After, we were never allowed to go anywhere without this sucker.”

Tessa shrugs in consideration, “Makes sense. I’d have done the same thing.” She sets it down and glances over at him, “Thank you very much. I’ll make sure to keep it with me.”

“Good.” Scott gnaws relentlessly on a hangnail.

The silence between them is heavy and strained. Tessa glances over and exhales slowly, knowing that if she doesn’t say the words, she’ll regret it for months.

“I need to tell you this, and I’m sorry it’s not what you want to hear,” she exhales slowly as she turns toward him fully. “I am in love with you. I always have been and a part of me always will be. You’ve had so much of my heart for such a long time, that I don’t think I could share it with someone else even if I tried. You make me happy.” Shrugging, she takes a wavering breath as he looks up at her, his eyes dim.

"Everything about you. The way you hold my hand, the way you always hold open the door, the way you smile at me or make me laugh, even when you argue with me, I fall even more in love because seeing you passionate about something is infectious. Just being around you, doing nothing at all, makes me happy. And maybe that makes me sound a little sad or a little desperate, but I don’t care anymore.“

She stops for a moment and looks down in her lap, her fingers twisting together. “But knowing that I’m the reason you’re unhappy, is quite possibly the most devastating feeling in the world, and I don’t want that. All I really want is for you to be happy, and if that means maintaining less of a presence in your life, then I’ll do it. Eventually this won’t hurt so bad, and who knows, maybe we’ll still be able to remain friends when it all shakes out.”

"Don’t worry though,” Tessa’s voice seems to grow steel each word. “I won’t bother you again with… with how I feel. This will be the last time.”

He knows she’s serious because in the 19 years he’s been with her, she’s never once openly admitted her feelings for him. Sure, she loves him, of course she loves him. But she also loves chocolate and clothes and the sound of their anthem being played.

Declaring her feelings for him in such an open and candid way goes against everything that she is: cautious and reserved, a gentle soul that she protects with layers upon layers of emotional distance and well poised deflection.

What’s making her do this? The sheer desperation of the moment? The fact that she doesn’t have to stick around and see the havoc she’s wrought? Or maybe she’s finally met her threshold and she’s got nothing left to lose.

Either way, it’s no time to tell someone how she feels. With a gun to her head and her back against the wall. No thanks.

Scott remains quiet, looking down to Norma Jean who reclines on her side, resting her head on Tessa’s foot. Deep down, he knows this is for the best. He knows it, because she’s going to keep living her life without having to take him into consideration. And so will he.

"I think this will be good for you. Good for us." He glances at her, clenching his jaw briefly. "It’ll give you the chance to do what you need to do without me holding you back."

"You don’t hold me back."

"Yeah," he lets out a strained smile. "Yeah I do. It took me a while to really get it, but you’ve made a lot of decisions based on how I’ll react… what I’ll think or how it’ll affect us. That’s not how it should be. And I think you taking this internship is the first time you’ve made a choice regardless of what anyone thinks, including me, even your family. It’s a big deal."

He leans forward a bit, catching her gaze so she knows he’s being sincere. “I think… I think it’s very brave.”

They watch each other carefully, memorizing everything about this moment: the hazy setting sun, the way the breeze ruffles their hair, the whining sound Norma Jean makes, the resigned expression on her face, the tension in his brow.

Feeling his resolve weakening, Scott rises quickly, knowing that if she continues looking at him like that, he’s going to ask her to stay and that will screw up everything. “Keep me posted on how everything is going, okay?”

She nods from her position on her stoop, watching as he pulls on his sunglasses and takes a step backwards. His hands are shaking a little and he’s not so sure he can go through with this, sending her off in such a cool manner. He has to be firm, though. Otherwise he’s going to break down right in front of her and that is absolutely unacceptable.

He slaps his thigh and whistles to Norma Jean who refuses to budge. Bending down, he grabs her by the collar and pulls her into a standing position. Quickly, he reaches out and grabs Tessa’s hand, placing a soft kiss on the back, unable to meet her gaze.

"Be safe out there. Come back in one piece, Kiddo."

She doesn’t reply, just keeps her mouth clamped shut, which is probably for the best. Scott takes a couple more steps backward, giving a half-hearted wave before turning back and walking to his truck. He climbs in behind Norma Jean, who goes immediately to the passenger window and sticks her head out, barking a couple times at Tessa. Scott gives her one last wave before pulling away quickly, ignoring the way his vision blurs and his nose runs, hands tight on the steering wheel.

It doesn’t occur to him until he’s almost home that in his rush to leave, he forgot to hug her goodbye.

Tessa remains on her stoop long past sunset, sitting with her chin propped on her fist, staring at the spot where Scott’s truck was. Oddly enough, her mind has finally quieted and now all that’s left behind is this numbness. Cool and insidious, it spreads throughout her body, burrowing into the fiber of her muscles, the marrow her bones, the cracks and crevices of the wall around her heart.

When she rises the next morning for the start of her 26 hour journey — she has a nine hour layover at Heathrow — she feels stiff and strange. Her parents come by promptly at 8 to load up her belongings and cart her to the airport. Conversation is minimal as they travel along the roadway, like the chill in the air has set into their throats and chests. Occasionally Tessa’s mom swipes at her cheek, the only sign of her inner turmoil.

Her father pulls up at the departure terminal and takes her bags out of the trunk, setting them down gingerly. Tessa burrows into her mother’s arms for a few minutes, holding her tightly. Eventually her father wraps his arms around them both, rubbing his hand in a soothing fashion along her back.

Tessa pulls away and kisses them both on the cheek, then turns and grabs her bags, ignoring the sense of leaving something behind. She waves goodbye once more then heads inside to check her luggage.

Her body feels leaden as she settles into her seat on the plane. The sense of loss returns once more, though she can’t narrow it down until the plane is moving down the tarmac. There’s a hardness in her chest that has replaced her heart, cold and impenetrable. It isn’t what or who she’s leaving behind that matters; it’s what she isn’t taking with her.

.::.::.::.


	15. 11.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be present. Sobering criticism from a dear friend.

.::..::..::.

It isn’t until day three that Tessa’s jetlag starts to improve. The 20+ hours of travel certainly took its toll on her already weary mind and body. Somewhere in there was her birthday, but she hardly recollects it, nor does she want to. Happy celebrations aren’t something she’s too keen on experiencing at the moment.

Aimée takes it easy on her the first couple days, but she finally gives up all pretense and slams into Tessa’s room early on the third day to set her straight.

"Tessa, you need to get your skinny arse out of bed!" The slim frame of the twin bed dips with Aimée’s slight weight as she settles in the center. "Come on, we’ve got morning meeting and then I’m going to take you around our project site."

Tessa cracks open one eye, squinting into the early dawn light. She abhors rising early with every fiber of her being. When she rules the world, after Queen Beyonce and Duchess Kate of course, she will declare that no one rise before eight. No, ten. Yes.

"If you let me sleep for another twenty minutes, I promise I’ll be ready to go in thirty," Tessa reaches her hand out for Aimée’s to shake in an agreeable manner. Aimée squints at Tessa, not hiding her displeasure, but shakes all the same.

"Just because I love you, I’ll make you breakfast," Aimée quips before shutting Tessa’s door on her way out.

By lunchtime, Tessa is ever so grateful that Aimée made her breakfast because she is currently peering into a soupy mixture that reportedly contains ‘edible rat’. At the site where they’ve relocated to be in closer proximity to the three summer projects, they’ve been entrenched in familiarization of he community. The generosity of the local families has been overwhelming, this lovely lunch not withstanding.

Tessa and Aimée then travel to their primary project location with Jimyu, their designated driver and liaison to all the great eccentricities of Ugandan customs and culture. Being a person with white skin, or Mzungu, it makes them gleaming easy targets for anyone trying to score a cent. Having a thorough knowledge of how much things should cost versus what one is charged is helpful. The other is knowing when to quit.

"Call me Jimmy," this man with a distinct stride smiles at Tessa with great big grin and a missing tooth. He catches her looking at the gaping hole and winks. "I lost that tooth fighting for my life. Pretty cool, eh?"

Nodding jauntily, Tessa continues with the pair, learning more about Jimmy as they make pit stops and continue to the site. He’s the oldest of nine children, of which five are still living (that he knows of). “We lost my sister and another brother about ten years back to the boogey man (his term for Kony) and his people. The other two joined the military. I assume they are dead… that or corrupt.”

He crosses himself solemnly then reaches over and flicks one of Aimée’s long yellow braids. “Ms. Aimée, I read that book you asked me to.”

"Oh yeah? What’d you think?"

"I think you need to explain it to me."

"How so?"

Tessa learns that Aimée has been educating Jimmy on classic American Literature in turn his assistance with all things Ugandan. She intends to progress to ‘the real stuff’ British and Scottish (pride in her homeland) after he gets a better grasp of reading comprehension. This week it is To Kill a Mockingbird, a book that Tessa adores. Steady discussion leads them along their journey until the early afternoon.

Their primary project site, Saint Augustine Secondary School (what Aimée refers as The SASS Project) is located near a cluster of small villages nearly an hour away on bumpy road. This will be the focus for the first half of the summer. There are other projects going on simultaneously, but this is the priority.

It’s what Henri refers to as a ‘ground up’ project, meaning they will be building the entire thing from foundation to roof. This isn’t as common as their organization more frequently assists with rehabilitating existing structures. Essentially their organization reaches out in the community to invest in an educational facility, couples it with external funds, then utilizes the locals and volunteers to aid in the construction of the facility.

Tessa is extremely interested in this particular school as it lines up with an entire chapter of her thesis, which concerns utilizing in-country assets and resources to revitalize what’s been destroyed by war. It’s too early to tell, but she plans on using this school as a platform of sorts upon which she can experiment with multiple ideas.

She’s currently perusing the blueprints in the shade while Jimmy is negotiating over some supplies they’ll need for when the students arrive. They have two days before the madness commences and Tessa fluctuates between excited and the complete opposite. Hard to predict her moods lately.

"Okay, I can’t take it anymore. I’ve given you days to relax. What is with that perpetual crease between your eyebrows?" Aimée inquires as she and Tessa chalk out the intended courtyard for recess.

Tessa takes her time responding, deciding on how much she wants to reveal to Aimée. Past experience has told her that Aimée’s ability to intuit certain situations can border on the problematic. Aimée doesn’t fully grasp boundaries sometimes, which is irritating when one is trying to ignore troublesome feelings and events. As a result, Tessa now sticks with the ‘need to know’ protocol.

She rises to a standing position and stretches her back. “Let’s just say, it involves Scott.”

"Oh, I knew that five minutes after you arrived. You had the same look on your face as you did in December. Last I checked, things were better between you two."

"They were."

"And…?"

Tessa shrugs, frowning in reply. Aimée sighs, but gets it all the same.

"Alright, I understand. Just know that if you need to talk, I’m here."

Tessa nods, turning to the side as she bites her lip, blinking hard. She feels the coldness in her gut and relishes the dull sensation.

"Answer me this though," Aimée is walking along the line, keeping her head down in a pointed manner. "You didn’t come here because you’re running away from him, are you?"

Taking in a deep breath, Tessa considers her question for a moment. Shaking her head, she turns back to Aimée with a long-winded response and instead responds with, “No. The situation with school happened too fast for that.”

Aimée narrows her eyes, still unconvinced. They continue to walk, surveying what will be the future science lab. After deliberating, Aimée speaks up.

"Do me a favor, Tess; I know there are many reasons that caused you to come, but leave those behind. Right now, your focus needs to be here, on these people, these beautiful people who have lost so much, but are still so grateful. We need to assist them, educate when necessary, but most importantly we need to embrace who they are. If you come into this with an ulterior motive, you will be doing them and yourself a disservice."

Taking in her words silently, Tessa mulls over them in a meticulous manner and stores them in the front of her mind.

Two days later, the students arrive and she jumps in head first to every activity imaginable.

.::.

It’s been a week since Tessa left, but nothing feels all that different for Scott. Whenever his mind drifts to her, it automatically stops the process, as though Tessa is a hot pan or something that sounds alarms in his head. Pavlovian, almost.

No matter, he’s doing everything humanly possible to put her out of his mind. This includes taking advantage of all Shannon’s newfound freedom by getting away for a four-day tropical vacation. They’re at a bed and breakfast in St. Thomas and Scott’s currently enjoying the view from the communal kitchen. He’s also doing his best to ignore the fact that he cheated on Shannon.

"Hey Babe?" Shannon calls from terrace off the kitchen. Her voice sounds a little strange, but Scott brushes it off.

"Yeah?" Scott is finishing making their breakfast while she gathers chives for their omelets.

"I uh…" she pads inside, barefoot. "I need to tell you something. But I need you to not say anything ‘til I’m done."

Scott turns from the stove, holding the skillet and a wooden spoon, not liking where this is going. She motions for him to set that down the cookery, which he does.

"Alright," she takes a deep breath, then speaks. "A couple of days after the boards, I went out with a bunch of doctors I work with. I got pretty drunk and made out with one of the Attendings. We stopped before… before it went too far. But turns out he has feelings for me, and it’s kind of making things awkward. So… I wanted you to know that it happened, that I could care less about him, and that I’m sorry for violating your trust."

Scott stands still for a moment, processing her words. He’s been back for a solid week. A week. They’ve had sex like… ten times. She’s just now getting around to telling him? What was she waiting for?

"Scott?" she waves her hand in front of his face, because all he can do is stare at her, his mind churning.

"I almost slept with Tessa," Scott blurts without thinking.

Shannon’s eyebrows dart upwards as she takes a step back, surprised by his response. He crosses an arm and places his hand over his mouth, staring down at the counter.

"That was…" Shannon lets out a breath, "not the response I was expecting."

"I know. I’m sorry. It was random, we didn’t…" he shakes his head, gaze still downcast.

Shannon walks over to the table and takes a seat, pushing out the chair opposite her with her foot. Scott follows and eases into the chair.

"Did it mean anything?" she asks quietly.

Scott thinks for a moment, genuinely considering what happened. In all the moments he’s had with Tessa, did that particular one mean something? Other than fracturing an already broken relationship?

"No. Not really."

"Not really?"

He shrugs, sighing. “Yeah, it was… we’d had a couple drinks, a great night, and we’d just wrapped up tour. I’ve had plenty of meaningful moments with her. That one? It was weak, not meaningful.”

He watches as Shannon crosses her arms, her eyes narrowing. “You’re not answering the question. Did it mean something to you?”

"No!" Scott replies loudly, shaking his head. "I was drunk and horny and she was there."

Frowning, Shannon laughs to herself. “Don’t do that. Don’t belittle her presence in your life. I know what she means to you.”

"Do you? Really? Then why are you asking!? It just happened. You did the same thing. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t a big deal.”

Shannon stands quickly, frustrated. “No. I made out with a guy I’ve known for a year. You made out with the one person that everyone in the country thinks you should be with.”

"Except me! I don’t want to be with her. I want to be with you. I chose you!” Scott yells, breathing heavy as he stands as well. The silence that lapses is the kind that reverberates off walls after finely tuned concerts.

Quietly, Shannon resumes speaking, her voice deadly calm. “What do you mean, you ‘chose’ me?”

Scott ruffles his hands through his hair, placing them on his waist. “We had an argument… she expressed her feelings for me. I did not… I told her that I wanted to be with you. A week later, she left for Uganda.”

"Why?"

"Why’d she leave?"

"Why do you want to be with me?" she whispers this, stark blue eyes catching with tears.

"Because you’re smart," Scott whispers back as walks slowly around the table, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "and you’re quirky, you don’t put up with my bullshit, and you’re goddamn beautiful. Because you make me happy."

She steps forward and presses her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around him. Closing his eyes, he scrunches them tight as he wraps his arms around her, hoping he made the right decision.

Of course, neither of them considers that she didn’t ask how he feels about Tessa and he certainly didn’t offer it up.

Perhaps that is a truth they can’t handle right now.

.::.

Late one afternoon during a break from the sheer chaos at SASS, Tessa is strolling with Sister Rosa around the parameter of grounds. They’re trying to determine if they’ll be able to afford a fence, and if so, how much of a fence. Lots of math and lots of frowning.

"I brought you something," Sister Rosa says as she walks beside her, double checking calculations. The weather the previous three days has been somewhat tempestuous, but they are blessed today with a spot of sunshine and a new set of benches upon which they are taking a seat. "It is something a dear friend gave to me, many years ago. It was after I lost my best sister (her best friend and sister) and my younger brother."

Tessa glances over at her, feeling herself grow conflicted by the gentleness of Sister Rosa’s voice, and yet the nature of her speech is the opposite. This is a courtesy stop to let Tessa know that not all is well.

"I was very angry, for many years. Angry at Kony, angry at our government and military, angry at my family. Very angry. I… I did not know how to grieve my losses, so I took them out on others, many who were innocent.”

She smoothes her hands over the fabric of her grey skirt, then twists them gently together. The cadence of her speech is slow and thoughtful.

"One day, Pastor George came to visit my home. He asked me how I was doing and sat with me for a long time, not talking, but sitting in my presence. Before he left, he gave me this book. He told me he read it often, because just like me, he had lost so much and struggled just like the rest of us. It was the only thing that brought him relief."

Reaching beside her, Sister Rosa grabs a worn copy of The Four Loves by C.S. Lewis. Tessa takes the book and peers at it gingerly, unfamiliar with the text. Her knowledge of C.S. Lewis extends only to the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. Sister Rosa presses her hand atop the book and Tessa’s hands, and gives her a soft smile.

"This will not make your pain go away. But it will help you reconcile what you are feeling. Do not close yourself off. There is too much inside of you that needs to be shared."

Tessa nods, chewing on the corner of her lip, feeling ashamed. “Have I really been that awful?”

"No, Tessa. You have been fine. But that is all you have been. When is the last time you laughed? When is the last time you played with the children?"

"Yesterday, as a matter of fact," she rebuts stubbornly. "We played soccer and Tuba scored on me twice. He’s very good."

"Do not change the subject. You are angry. Your eyes are sad. I miss your laughter, your great big laugh. I want you to take this book and read it. I want to hear your laugh again."

Nodding solemnly, Tessa receives a hand squeeze then watches as Sister Rosa retreats, walking along the rambling road that takes her the three kilometers home.

It takes Tessa four days with frequent sighing and head shaking, but eventually, she completes the book. It doesn’t have the intended reaction in her, because she simply finds herself agreeing with one portion wholeheartedly and ignoring much of the rest.

Sister Rosa tells her to read it again. And again. And again.

"Read it until you feel something other than anger," she orders in her soft-steel voice.

Dutiful to a fault, Tessa does as instructed. Reads until she cannot bear to look at the book. Even then, her feelings follow the typical spectrum of the grieving process to where now, she feels is a gaping hole. So, she continues to read.

In the end, she keeps coming back to the same excerpt, relating to it so fully that she memorizes it.

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”*

.::.

The weather has been absolutely atrocious the past week. Gale force winds, torrential down pours, animals falling from the sky. Literally.

"I can’t believe I’m actually rescuing a cat from a tree right now," Scott sighs as he climbs down the ladder. "We’ve been working thirty hours straight and I’m getting a cat out of a tree right now."

"Yo, Scotty, shut your trap and get it done," bellows Matt. "I gotta pick up my boys at soccer practice, do another load a laundry, and then I have to get dinner done all before my wife gets home from a twelve hour shift. The longer you yap, the more crap I gotta put up with."

"Wow, you’re really selling the whole marital bliss package right now." Scott lassos the cat with care, wishing he were wearing his cowboy hat so he could raise it in victory.

"What about marriage seems easy to you? First you gotta convince the girl you’re worth it just to date you, then you have to lull her into a sense of security long enough to marry you, when that victory is achieved, you must be virile and voracious enough to please her sexual appetite and give her three strong, healthy boys. Not only that, you’ve got to put food on the table, pay the bills, get to work on time, and not screw it all up." He holds open the carrier for the cat as Scott waits for Jane, another firefighter on their crew, to retract the ladder on their truck.

"You want marital bliss, kid? Then understand this right now: the only bliss that is achievable is that two minutes in the morning when you’re still curled up next to the woman you somehow haven’t alienated yet, the sky is grey, the world is quiet, and your homicidal child hasn’t tried to lock one of his brothers in the bathroom cabinet yet.”

"Got that Scotty?" Jane asks as she smirks at Matt’s heated wisdom.

"Yeah yeah," he replies frowning. Stretching quickly, he grabs the carrier from Matt and heads over to the front door where a wet-cheeked boy is standing, waiting for his beloved calico.

"Thanks mister," he replies without prompting. The kid’s mom is standing behind him smiling broadly.

"I can’t believe of all the people to come rescue my son’s cat, Scott Moir shows up. You really are a local hero, aren’t you?"

Scott laughs, shaking his head. “No, just doing my job. On the weekends though is a whole other story,” he kneels in front of the boy, petting the plump cat on the head. “Can you keep a secret?”

The boy nods solemnly.

"If you see a caped crusader running around, it’s probably me, got it?"

"Yeah," he whispers, crossing his heart. Scott gives him a big smile then rises, shaking the woman’s hand.

"How’s your partner, by the way?"

"My partner?" Scott echoes, confused.

"Yeah, Tessa, silly. I read that she was in Africa or something. Is that true?"

Scott winces internally. That partner. “Yeah, she sure is.”

"Interesting. Is she also saving the world, like you?"

"Yo, Scotty! Let’s roll! Got one more stop."

Scott starts backpedaling to the truck and waves at the woman and her son. “Yeah, she sure is.”

It’s the first time he’s thought about Tessa in about five days. Strange.

.::.

"Alright y’all," says José, a senior from University of Texas. "I know you’re tired and hungry. I’m going to give out room assignments, then y’all go get settled and then come back here for chow and introductions."

Tessa and Aimée lean against the wall in the back, enjoying the breeze from a nearby fan. This is the fourth set of students. Each class of thirty to forty students stays for about ten days. In the course of that time, the Team leaders, always someone from the same region as the students, get the students oriented and ready to rock. All the students come prepared with set tasks, knowing in advance what they’ll be doing upon arrival.

Many bring educational materials and supplies either for HIV awareness training or protection from domestic and sexual violence, which is prevalent throughout. During this particular class, Tessa will be working with a group of students who came here for this specific purpose — leading them to a distant village for a two-day lesson on reproduction and HIV. This isn’t her favorite lecturing topic, but it’s crucial for this region, therefore she will embrace it.

By the time the students return to the main hall, Tessa is ready to eat her hand. She skipped lunch earlier to workout and has since determined that this was a poor decision. During the first class of students she got talked into doing a pull-up competition and had the misfortune of losing. Ever since, she’s incorporated pull-ups into her usual routine. In the absence of a gym, she’s become very creative when it comes to working out and does so in short bursts several times a day.

"Mmmm," Aimée hums as she scoops fried plantain and rice in her mouth. "Sarah outdid herself. This is delicious."

Tessa nods in agreement as Henri takes a seat beside her. “How was your day off? Get a chance to speak with your family?”

"Yes. Nothing too exciting going on right now. Just the regular summer grind. My dad and brothers have been putting in plenty of time at the golf course," Tessa replies between bites of food. "My mom is busy preparing for the grandbaby. I think she’s bought out every store’s selection on toys and clothing."

"Must be the first grandchild," Henri states. "Aimée and I have an older brother, much older. He’s got what, four kids now?"

"Five, remember there were twins in there somewhere," Aimée replies. "Mum went absolutely bonkers with the first couple. After baby three, she started asking why they weren’t recycling all the toys."

"Yeah, I feel like when I finally have kids no one will even care. But this is the first grandchild, therefore the most exciting."

"It’s due right around the time you return, right?" Henri inquires as he rips apart his bread. "Cutting it close, aren’t you?"

"Yes well, when the arrangements were made I wasn’t thinking about being back in time. Fortunately, I’ve got two weeks wiggle room."

"Wiggle room? I can tell you that babies come out whenever they’re good and ready," Henri says assuredly.

"You say this like you know," Tessa grins as the gnawing in her stomach has subsided.

"I do," Henri says softly, but no more. Aimée watches him closely, frowning briefly. She catches Tessa watching and changes the conversation.

By the time introductions are made, the students look ready to fall asleep at the tables. Regardless, José in his unflagging enthusiasm, gets them animated enough for an icebreaker before sending the students on their way. Tessa and Henri remain in the back, reviewing the teams they’ve assembled for SASS and the HIV education group.

Before they break for the night she pulls out and tosses a worn paperback, Breakfast at Tiffanys, while he slides over Le Petite Prince.She raises her eyebrow at the cartoon cover.

"En francais?" she inquires. "You know my French is rubbish."

He also tosses out a French-English dictionary and collects his notebooks, slapping his leg for Harbuu to follow. Tessa shoulders her bag and stacks the two books, ignoring one or two curious gazes as she exits through the door.

A couple days later, Tessa finds herself in a ramshackle bus with wooden shades for windows, holes in the floor and a wobbly tire. She keeps holding her breath, waiting for them to careen off this slowly creeping hill into a rocky ravine. She absently wonders if her will is up-to-date and whether or not the stack of documents her mother had her sign before she left included her power of attorney. The bus moans desperately and Tessa desperately wishes for distraction.

"Hey so uh, what’s your story?" asks Nathan, a grad student from University of Texas, Austin. He’s maybe a year younger than her, but acts like the typical all-american type. He’s been trying to chat her up since the moment he arrived. Perhaps not this type of distraction.

"What do you mean?"

"I get that you’re an intern and all, but what brings you here?"

Tessa narrows her eyes. As part of her agreement with Hightower and The Innocence Project, she’s been posting blog updates at her leisure to discuss the goings on for this branch. Something about him makes her suspect that he actually knows who she is.

"Research in post-conflict reconstruction."

"Sweet. How’s it been so far?"

"Good, there’s a school being constructed a few hours away. I was down there last week. The foundation has been laid, walls are up, our engineers surveyed for first floor structural integrity two days before you arrived. Your team will be working on constructing the second floor. It’s one of the largest schools we’ve worked on."

"Nice. I thought our non-profit mostly rebuilt schools."

"They do. It’s just that after some of the internal displacement camps disassembled, a large population relocated near our new school site. It’s in a fertile region for farming and the river is close by. The issue is there has been a lot of local fighting over territory. Not only that, but without any nearby schools, there’s very little education going on, so we’re trying to fix that."

"Are you the one who’s trying to get a vocational school funded?"

Bingo. He totally knows who she is. “Yep. That’s me.”

"How’s it goin’ so far?"

"Slow. But it’s the reason I’m here." They hit a pothole and the bus shakes ominously, causing them both to grab on. "What brings you here?"

Mr. All-American breaks eye contact then stares outside for a moment, gaze distant. “Redemption.”

Tessa furrows her brow, watching as he continues to look out the window. He turns a moment later and flashes a grin, changing the topic. Tessa takes mercy and gets entrenched in a heated debate over the upcoming hockey season.

After their chat on bus, Nathan continues to be funny and amiable. Tessa learns that he’s actually staying through three classes and is the leader for the next class. He’s nice, but she can tell he keeps people at arms length, never really opening up. This makes her curious and causes her to dig deeper. Unfortunately, she only gets so far before their paths diverge for the majority of his team lead responsibilities. Occasionally they meet up during morning meeting, he gives a smile and offers a ready joke, but there’s a sadness about him.

On a whim, she starts asking other students why it is that they’ve flown halfway across the world to help a people so wholly unconnected to them. She gets a variety of responses, but most commonly she hears hope, justice,and to help others.

Tessa is a little disappointed over the rather clichéd responses, but then again her reasons weren’t much better.

.::.

It’s poker night and all the fellas are gathered outside on Tom’s back porch. The crew fluctuates as work and travel schedules allow, but currently it’s the original five Scott initially assembled. Scott smiles as Paul describes the location for his wedding and rolls his eyes as Joey talks about taking another cooking class.

“Joey, no offense, but I’m not sure that’s the best idea bro,” Scott states sensibly. “I mean… you did almost burn down the kitchen last time.”

“Aw, take it easy on Joey,” Paul cuts in as Matt and Tom chuckle. The game picks up in earnest. “So uh, did you get a look at Tessa’s latest blog posting?”

Scott glances up eyebrow arched and shakes his head. He didn’t know she was blogging. Then again, he’s done his best to not know anything.

“It’s pretty good,” Paul says as he tosses in a chip. “All of her posts are, but she’s really developing her rhythm as a writer. ”

“I’m not necessarily well-versed in blogging,” Matt comments, “but I’m great at watching youtube videos. Some kid posted a clip of her kicking ass in a pull-up competition. Girl’s got some guns.”

“That was sick,” Joey chimes in. “I saw that too. It’s been floating around facebook the past couple days. Did you see the one with the little boy hanging from her shoulders as she kept going?”

“Oh yeah, Isaiah, right?” Paul grins. “Tessa said she’s going to try to sneak him back in her luggage.”

“When did she say that?” Scott frowns, finally cutting in as his curiosity gets the better of him.

“Email,” Paul’s eyebrows draw together. “You know, the mass one she sends out to friends and family.”

“Ah yeah. Right.” Scott nods, absolutely no clue. “Haven’t checked my inbox in a while.”

Before Paul can say anything more, Matt sets his beer on the table with a thud and lays his cards face down for a moment.

"Alright, I got some news boys," Matt states as smoothly. "I’m having another kid."

Cheers and congratulations go around, all the men shaking Matt’s hand as Scott smiles at a man that he considers a brother.

"So you really are trying for a hockey team?" Paul ribs Matt with a grin.

"Hell yeah. All we need are a set of twins after this one and I’ll be able to coach my brood to victory!"

"Might want to make sure your wife is in on that little venture you’ve got planned," Scott quips as he folds with a frown. "Do you know what it’s going to be yet?"

"Nah. I think we’re going for the surprise route. I got three boys. Pretty sure my wife agreed to another one was because she wants a daughter."

"I have no idea how she does it, your wife," Joey replies. "Your youngest is a holy terror."

"But the oldest two are absolute angels. We had to pay for it somewhere."

Scott rises to get another beer, nodding at Tom who holds up his empty for Scott to take. Tom’s been quiet all night, which is a little concerning. He tends to have at least one salty jab or two to throw into the mix when they get to smack talking each other.

Later that night when all the boys have packed up to go home, Scott’s sitting with Tom on his back porch tossing a tennis ball that Norma Jean is dutifully fetching.

"What’s up Tom?"

"Eh? Nothin, kid.” He watches Scott lob the ball to the opposite end of his yard, Norma Jean snorting in excitement. “What’s up with you?"

"Me? Nothin. Just the summer crawl. Work, couple music festivals, camping with the boys, travel with Shannon. Nothin much."

Tom nods, his gaze distant. Taking a long pull from his beer, he lets out a deep belch. “I’ve had it out with my youngest son this week. We have a… difficult relationship and…” he swallows, scowling. “I think I might have gone too far.”

Scott raises his eyebrows, surprised. Tom only ever mentions his sons in regards to what they do and their accomplishments. Both followed in his profession and are merchant marines. His oldest is very skilled and resourceful, having put away a large sum of money already. The younger son is more of a ‘here and now’ kind of lad, spends his money as fast as he earns it.

"Was he asking for money again?"

"Not this time. I uh…” he shakes his head, indicating that now isn’t the time to talk about it. He finishes his water and bids Tom goodnight, leaving the man alone with his thoughts.

It’s peak house flipping season, and every spare moment he’s got is spent at one of four properties he co-owns with Paul, getting stuff done. He’s squirreling away every cent he makes for his future home, intending to break ground the following summer.

Which reminds him, perhaps he should actually show Shannon the property. He wanted to wait a bit longer, but she just agreed to take the position at the London hospital and so he feels pretty sure in the future with regards to where things are going. He just has to present it in such a way that doesn’t scare her off.

Which is ludicrous, because really, if Shannon’s made it this far what could actually scare her off?

It’s not until he gets home from a long day landscaping that he gets his answer. Checking his emails, he sees that Paul forwarded a group email from Tessa. His cursor hovers over the subject line for a couple minutes until he moves it away, choosing to read some spam mail from Chiddy instead.

Two days later, he breaks down and reads the email. Without even realizing, he then proceeds to read every single post on her non-profit sponsored blog. Then he watches the clip of her doing 37 pull-ups and another ten with that little boy hanging off her shoulders. What the hell is she doing out there? Training for the World’s Strongest Woman competition?

The sounds of Shannon getting home causes him close out of the clip and shake his head as though he were in a trance. Blinking hard, he sets aside his thoughts for a later time. If he seems a little forgetful or absentminded, Shannon doesn’t say anything, chalking it up to one of his moods.

Scott pushes Tessa out of his mind for a solid 36 hours until he breaks down and spends an hour writing and rewriting an email to her. In the end, he trims it down to a few lines.

Before he can chicken out, he presses send.

.::.

 

"Oh, come on Tess, Nathan is harmless,” Aimée calls out as they walk from the jeep towards their sleeping quarters. They just had a farewell dinner in the nearest town with a bunch of the staff, many of whom are rotating out the following day. “He’s a nice guy and he clearly likes you, what’s the problem?"

Tessa lets out a disgruntled sigh and turns to Aimée, irritated. “Aimée, you know I’m not as casual as you about sex. Don’t get me wrong, I love sex. Quite a bit. It’s just…I’m… not as casual.”

"I’m not saying you are. I just think this one time might be good for you. Kind of a… get everything out of your system."

Tessa’s pretty sure a one-night stand isn’t going to make her feel better. Actually, no. She’s positive.

"You know what, I appreciate your concern, but I disagree." Tessa turns and walks out before she can lose her temper. She makes it past Henri’s room and around the corner before she hears Aimée calling after her.

"God, you are such a killjoy. It’s just sex!"

She stops in her tracks, clamps her eyes shut and bites her lip and counts to ten, but it’s not enough. Aimée’s been needling her for days now. There’s only so much she can take. Turning again, she finally let’s Aimée have it.

"Here’s the thing about sex Aimée, it means different things to different people. And to me, it is something meaningful. To you, it’s a pleasurable activity that you excel at. But for me right now, the last thing I want is to be some guy’s casual fuck while he was on some do-gooder mission in Africa for a few weeks. Because in the end, that’s all it is — a causal exchange of an intimate act. All I have ever been is some guy’s token object and I’m done with it.” 

Tessa takes a step closer to Aimée as her voice grows low and tense, and her body so tight that nearly every muscle is stiff.

"It all comes down to the same problem: I gave my heart away when I was seven years old, and I never got it back. I spent my whole life knowing in the back of my mind that eventually, Scott and I would work our way to each other after we got over all our bullshit. All we ever seem to do though is hurt each other.”

Exhaling, she shakes her head. “Ever since London, things have been weird. Scott’s been weird. He started dating an American, for goodness sake. But things were getting better. I thought they were getting better. Except we screwed up in Vancouver, and then everything happened with my program…” Tessa bites her lip, swallowing hard. “He said he didn’t want to be around me anymore. Not as a skater, not as my friend, not as… nothing.”

“Right before I left, I told Scott I was in love with him and he just sat there and looked straight through me. Like I was nothing. He didn’t even hug me goodbye. He just got in his car and left.”

Tessa takes one step closer and even though she can see the sorrow and sympathy on Aimée’s face, she keeps going. Because hot damn this feels good and she needs this cathartic release.

“So when you ask me if I just want to have sex with some guy, I can honestly say it’s the last thing I want to do. Because in the end, I’m still a hindrance to the person that matters most to me and having sex would just make me feel cheap and wasted.”

She starts backpedaling slowly, her anger gone as fast as it came. Her voice is softer now, calmer. “I just want to do my job and care for these people and leave feelings out of it all together.”

She turns and continues walking, heading to her small cave of a room. Once she gets inside, she shuts the door and leans against the wall beside it for the moment, calming her breathing and her pulse. She slides down to the floor, pulls her knees to her chest, and leans her head against the wall. Taking in a deep breath, she exhales slowly, letting out the pent up frustration and ire burning within her.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock on her door, then it cracks open to reveal Aimée. She gives Tessa a sheepish look, then squeezes her lengthy frame through the door and shuts it quietly. Lowering her body to the floor beside Tessa, she too leans against the wall, quiet for several minutes as she stares ahead at the photos posted on the wall.

"Tessa, I’ve got two things to say, and then I’m not going to bring this up, ever again," Aimée intones, her voice gentle and warm.

"Stop blaming yourself for Scott not wanting to be in a relationship with you. Stop trying to figure out why. He doesn’t even know why. Sometimes, people get afraid of feeling too much.

Sometimes, they get afraid of losing what they love, of the eventual possibility that it could happen. So instead of allowing themselves the chance to achieve the ultimate happiness and fulfillment, they chose to cut their loses early and not risk it. Just the sheer possibility of failure is too much for them to bear. Does it suck that he doesn’t have enough faith in you two? Yes. But he’s already done his best to replace you with someone almost as desirable, but without as much of a hold on his heart. Less collateral damage that way if it eventually doesn’t work out.”

Tessa mulls over Aimée’s words, feeling acute twinges in her chest every time she thinks about the fact that he’d rather have a lesser version of happiness than risk failure. A lone tear escapes, but Aimée reaches over and wipes it away with her thumb, stroking Tessa’s cheek gently. She tucks away some hair that is escaping Tessa’s ponytail, then drops her hand, taking a deep breath.

"Scott isn’t an idiot or stupid, if anything, he’s a bit of a coward, but it’s his choice and you can’t do anything to change that. Besides, there are most certainly hundreds of people that would be more than willing to suffer your affections, present company included," she winks at Tessa who rolls her eyes at Aimée’s shameless flirt.

Straightening, Aimée continues, “But I need you to do me one favor, okay and don’t forget that I love you to pieces.”

Arching her eyebrows, Tessa narrows her eyes in consideration. “Okay…”

"From the bottom of my heart, if you don’t get your goddamn head out of your fucking arse and get over this, I promise I will steal all the honey, eat all the chocolate I bought you, and wake you up extra early every morning for the next month."

Tessa’s eyebrows shoot upward, shocked. That honey is sacred. 

"You’re in Uganda. BE in Uganda. Not thousands of miles away with a man who is too afraid to be in a relationship with you. Be here. Be with Rosa and me and Henri and some hot guy from America. Be present.”

Her words hit Tessa all the way in her core, reminding her of years and years where she would check out mentally if she was in too much pain, or if she was in peak training mode, where she has complete gaps in memory except for pain and practice.

Be present. Sobering criticism from a dear friend.

Nodding quickly, the corner of Tessa’s mouth lifts as she agrees mutely to Aimée’s demand.

"I promise," Tessa whispers.

"Have faith, dear heart," Aimée replies as she gets on her feet, plops a wet kiss in Tessa’s hair, and then squeezes out the door. Tessa is left alone with Aimée’s words and her own thoughts.

Mentally, she takes a step back and works to categorize her feelings. It’s an exercise she used to do when she’d come home from a rough practice and always seemed to make her feel somewhat better. She’s mostly over this whole situation; she’s just not ready to introduce new players to the mix. After a solid ten minutes of reflection, she comes to the very important understanding that although she cannot control how Scott feels about her, she can control her response.

High alert defense mode seems to be the safest option, even if somewhat severe. Her already hardened heart will erect an additional wall of protection and this time, no one will surmount it. She will not allow herself to get attached to anyone, nor will she allow anyone to anyone to become attached to her.

Most importantly, she will force Scott Moir out of her heart.

And never let him in again.

.::.::.::.


	16. 11.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You want me to not have feelings for you. Please give me time to stop having them.

_.::.::.::._

Scott starts having a recurring dream. Nothing brings it about; it's just something that he wakes up from, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia as though it were from a memory. It always starts when he's in bed, it's early and sunlight is shining in through the blinds. He hears giggling, feels tiny hands on his chest and face, and soft puffs of breath brushing his skin. The softness and warmth of the sheets makes it challenging for him to rise.  
 _  
"We can tell you're awake you know," says a little boy speaking very matter of factly.  
  
"Yeah," it's a little girl, younger, by the sound of it. "You're no good at this game."  
  
He opens his eyes, launching at the bundle beside him, spotting a mass of curly auburn hair tied back with a lavender hair ribbon. With a squeak, the little girl hops off the bed and takes off out of the room. Sitting up, the little boy remains beside him, staring at his hands, frowning. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I did something bad," he whispers, biting his lip. Immediately, Scott grows concerned for the little boy. He already has a sneaking suspicion of what it is based on how morose his wife was the night before.  
  
Wait. Wife? Sure, okay.  
  
"What's up buddy?"  
  
The little boy with the unruly hair keeps his head bent, chewing on the corner of his lip.  
  
"Watch it, you'll chew a hole in your lip if you aren't careful."  
  
The little boy huffs, releasing his lip. A few moments pass until finally, he lets out his terrible secret: "I told mommy I hated her yesterday."  
  
Even though Scott already knows it happened, it doesn't make it hurt any less. He keeps his voice calm and quiet as he asks his next question: "do you understand what hate is?"  
  
The boy nods his head, "Yeah. It's when I'm madder than mad at you."  
  
Scott tries not to smile at this logic, knowing how much harm was caused. "Not quite, bud. Hate is something I've never felt, not in my entire life. It's the most extreme form of dislike, mad doesn't even come close to describing it. So even when I'm playing hockey against my arch nemesis, I 'dislike' them. Very much. But I don't hate them."  
  
The little boy takes in the words but doesn't seem to get it. "How ‘bout this: remember last year when your sister threw Mr. Beans in the lake and we couldn't find him? Remember how mad you were?"  
  
"Yeah. I wanted to push her in the water."  
  
"Right. Now take that anger, and imagine feeling that way everyday, all day for a year. All that anger, balled up in your little body. That's hate."  
  
The boy starts to cry, big fat wet tears.  
  
"Why did you tell mommy you hated her?"  
  
"Because she  —"  
_  
.::.  
  
And then Scott wakes, exhausted and distraught. Clearly that little boy is his. But who is his wife? The auburn hair would indicate possibly, maybe it was his and Shannon's? The thought doesn't frighten him. No, it excites him.  _Kids_. He wants them. Three, maybe four. He doesn't care what gender. He just wants them. He wants the dirty diapers and the messy dinners, the loud car rides and the skinned knees. He wants, no, he  _craves_  the mayhem of a full home bursting with children and love.

He also wishes Tessa would reply to his email, but beggars can’t be choosers.  
  
One of his wishes is granted a couple days later when his brother asks him to stay over for the following weekend and watch his two kids. They're both putting the finishing touches in the bathroom of a home he and Paul are getting ready to put on the market.  
  
"It's our anniversary," Charlie shrugs. "We have got to get away for a couple days. Not deal with a runny nose or a temper tantrum for at least five minutes."  
  
"Yeah, sure thing," Scott replies, watching as his brother finishes anchoring a showerhead to the wall. "What can I absolutely not do?"  
  
"Dye their hair, take them hunting, or let them play in traffic. Other than that," Charlie lowers himself to the ground, "it'd be swell if you'd keep the sugar to the minimum and not turn the house upside down."  
  
"Wow, steep demand... I dunno," Scott hedges with a smirk. His brother punches him the shoulder then picks up his tool kit.   
  
"Yes or no, Scotty?”

“Of course, yes. A thousand times over. We’re going to take Ilderton by storm. Knock over Timmy’s for hot chocolate and wreak havoc on the playground.”

“Sounds good. Make sure you steal a flag or two,” his brother requests as they take their tool boxes outside and return inside to do a quick walk through.

“If all goes well, I’m trying to take a longer vacation at the end of the summer. About a week. You don’t kill ‘em or anything, and maybe you’ll get a couple kids for a week to remind you why you haven’t got any yet.”

“Hey it’s not for lack of trying, I assure you,” Scott replies. He picks up several boxes while his brother grabs the remaining few. They cart them outside and toss them into the large dumpster posted out front, wiping their hands on their jeans when they finish.

Just then, Paul drives up in his truck, having gotten off from his day job. “Hey fellas, thought I’d see you here. Want to swing by my place after we finish? Made a new homebrew.”

The two brothers glance at each other and make quick phone calls, informing those on the other end that they will be getting home late that night. After ensuring the mess is cleaned up, the three men set off for Paul’s lake house. Pulling into the drive, Scott gets out of his truck and stomps the dust out of his boots, smiling as Sarah descends the steps to greet them.

“I’m going on a limb and assuming you all are here for the fresh batch of beer Paul just made. It’s pretty good, but I’m warning you, take it slow. It’ll land you on your butt faster than a suckerpunch.”

“Well isn’t that a winning endorsement?” Charlie inquires as Sarah smiles at them. She reaches up and gives Paul a quick kiss then gets in her own car to drive away. The men continue around to the back where Paul has an old shed that’s been turned into a pseudo-mancave/brewery.

“Where’s Sarah off to? Didn’t mean to scare her off,” Scott asks, concerned.

“Nah, she’s heading to the gym. She’s under the impression that she needs to be two sizes smaller by the wedding, so she’s been working out like a fiend.”

Scott and Charlie exchange looks of disbelief. “If she gets any smaller, she’ll blow away in the wind.”

“Trust me, I’ve told her this repeatedly,” Paul frowns. “I will never understand the pressure women put themselves under just for one single day and a few photos.”

“My wife did the same thing. I can tell you it made the honeymoon much more delightful because she would finally let herself eat whatever she wanted.”

“Oh so she stopped being hangry all the time? Delightful. All Sarah’s been doing is sneakily replacing all things that taste good in our house with sad imitations of hollowed out misery.”

“I bet you’ve lost more weight than she has,” Scott smirks.

“Yes, but don’t tell her that. I’m compensating by drinking more beer.”

“Very responsible of you,” Charlie crosses his arms as he leans back in his chair. “I gotta say Paul, you and Scott lucked out. This is a great view.”

Scott follows his brother’s gaze out over the lake, dark green trees, rolling hills, various wildlife all-clamoring around in their daily routine.

“Great view, yes. However it’s a bitch driving to town in the winter when we keep getting these horrendous blizzards. I’ve got nearly two weeks of food stockpiled in my basement.”

Both men whistle in awe as Charlie leans over and slaps Scott on the back. “You hear that? Two weeks worth. Hope you get some good chains for those tires of yours.”

“I’m asking for a snow plow for Christmas, as a matter of fact,” Scott shoots back, prepared. He takes a deep sip from his beer, savoring the taste. “Paul, this is much better than your last batch. I think too much hops last time.”

The men debate the finer points of refined beer as the sunsets and they get hungry. Paul pulls out a couple steaks and they grill them out, continuing to drink and eat mass quantities of protein.

By the end of the night, none is in the right state to drive, so they crash at Paul’s, claiming various locations for slumber. In the morning, Scott wakes to the sound of his phone buzzing. It’s Tony, his agent. Sitting up, he yawns as he pulls the phone to his face.

“Hey Tony, what’s up?”

“Yo, Scotty. How fast can you make it to Toronto?”

Furrowing his brow, he glances at his watch and adds how long it’ll take for him to look/feel human again. “A couple hours, why?”

“Got something big for ya. Meet me at my office. We’ll get lunch.”

“Sounds good.” Scott hangs up the phone as the other two sit up.

“What’s going on?” Paul croaks out.

“Not much. Gotta head to Toronto,” Scott rises. “Charlie, I got your kids next weekend, okay?”

“Thanks,” Charlie grunts. “See you on Sunday for softball?”

“Of course. Don’t forget we got dinner at mom and dad’s after.” Scott steals a banana from Paul’s kitchen and bounds out of the house, tossing his keys in the air and catching them. Texting Shannon good morning, Scott heads to his house for a quick shower then on the road for Toronto.

Sure enough, Tony wasn’t lying. It’s very big, this deal.

.::. 

A raging fever infection attacks Tessa in late July. She's just sent out a few emails (pointedly ignored one from Scott), shared a meal with friends and Aimée who is spending a six weeks in Rwanda, and meets a fellow Canadian. It is the highlight of her day, meeting someone who actually loves the cold, who knows what a Canadian summer feels like, who lives for hockey and the outdoors.

 

But as she is walking home along the dirt path, Tessa starts to feel strange, like perhaps something she's eaten isn't settling right in her stomach. She breaks out into a cold sweat, shivering violently until she empties her stomach of all its contents. Before she reaches the site, she's had two more episodes and the world is swimming. She crawls onto her tiny twin bed and curls up into a ball, completely drenched and too weak to call for help.

 

A few hours later a concerned Henri takes Tessa, bundled up in sheets, to the local infirmary, 10 kilometers away. Typically teaming with activity, it's late and not too busy, so he is escorted quickly to an empty bed. She's semi-coherent and mumbling, flushed and clammy.

 

"What is the problem, old friend?" Peter, a Ugandan who completed his medical education in the United Kingdom, greets Henri with a kiss on each cheek and a handshake. 

 

"She ate in town earlier and I haven't seen her for hours after she got back. She's burning up and vomiting profusely."

 

"What anti-malarial is she on?"

 

They go back and forth for several minutes as Henri extracts all knowledge he knows about Tessa from his mind. She’s Canadian, a graduate student, healthy, no medical conditions, no medications except for mefloquine, stronger than an ox. No he doesn't know where the scars from her legs came from. Yes, he can get her blood type. No, he doesn't know if she's been swimming lately, he has no idea where she ate lunch. He does know, however awkwardly it may be, that she has not been sexually active while in country.

 

By two am, Henri finally gets to take a seat and relax. Her fever is under control, however briefly, and they've got two IVs going. He calls Jan, his assistant back at the site to pull Tessa's medical file to ensure there’s nothing he missed. Of course, something like this would happen once his sister left. She made him swear on their father's ancestral home in the Scottish Highlands that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to Tessa, and Aimée's been gone for all of twelve hours and Tessa ends up in the infirmary.

 

_Brilliant._

 

He wakes around five to the awful sound of retching. Turning, he sees Harbuu leaning on the bed as Tessa vomits into a basin. When she settles back onto the bed, he finds that she looks worse. One of the nurses stands beside her, applying a cool damp cloth to her forehead. Wringing his hands, Henri leans forward to lay a hand on her arm, but the nurse taps it, shaking her head for him to keeps his hands to himself.

 

Irritated, he searches out Peter who gives Henri a glum look.

 

"We'll have to wait about forty eight hours to see what it going on. She hasn't begun having diarrhea yet, but she could have anything from food poisoning to malaria to dysentery. I've looked at one set of blood smears but they're too vague for a confirmation. I'll wait another twenty four hours to see what's brewing in her blood."

 

"Should I notify her family?"

 

Peter balks at the thought. "If she's not better in three days, then yes. Until then, leave her with me. I'll make sure all is well."

 

"You of all people know we can't guarantee stuff like that."

 

"Okay, then go back to work, I'll call you if anything changes. Come back this evening for an update."

 

Henri scowls, not liking the thought of leaving Tessa alone. What if she wakes up and he's not here?

 

"Don't worry, if she wakes up, I'll call you," Peter says at the look on Henri's face. "Man, you've got it bad."

 

Henri raises an eyebrow, perplexed. "What are you talking about?"

 

"You fancy the pretty Canadian."

 

Henri scowls even more, displeased. "That's ludicrous. No, I just care because she's one of my sister's best friends. Aimée will *kill* me if something happens to Tessa."

 

Peter gives Henri a smug smile and nods. "Sure, okay old friend. I'll keep you posted. Get out of here."

 

Tessa wakes three days later feeling like death warmed over. She smells sour and a bit like vomit while her hair is greasy and matted to her head. Frowning, she smacks her lips together, chapped and dry, her mouth even moreso. 

 

"Ah, you are awake!" A man with the smoothest voice she's ever heard calls from a desk nearby. "I am sorry we are meeting under such circumstances. I am Doctor Peter Nakato and you are in the infirmary."

 

Eyebrows raised, Tessa tries to push up in bed, but is far too weak. Alarmed, Tessa glances around but Dr. Nakato shakes his head, smiling. 

 

"Just relax, little one. Here, drink this," Dr. Nakato orders as he hands her a cup full of chai. "It is my mother's recipe."

 

Tessa sips the warm fluid gingerly, still confused. It tastes rich of foreign tea leaves, spices, and goats milk. "What happened?"

 

"Two things, you got food poisoning, but you also have malaria!" He smiles like he's delivered a funny joke. "Welcome to Uganda. You are now one of us."

 

"Somehow I doubt that," Tessa licks her lips again, chewing on a corner. "What kind do I have?"

 

"Of malaria? Oh so you have read about it. Excellent. You have the mild version, so you will be good as new in a couple more days. I expect to discharge you back to Henri tomorrow. I'll pay you a visit in one week's time for a follow up."

 

"Is this the kind where I'm going to get sick randomly in a year or two?"

 

"Based on your blood smear, I do believe you have that type of malaria, however I cannot confirm or deny whether it will reoccur again. There is simply the possibility."

 

She continues to frown, so much to say but so tired. She finishes her drink and hands it back to him. "Rest, little one, I'll let Henri know you're awake."

 

Hours later, she feels a warm presence by her side and the sound of Henri's voice as he reads aloud:

 

"I woke up as the sun was reddening; and that was the one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I didn't know who I was - I was far away from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood —"

 

Harbuu thumping her tail in excitement distracts Henri from his book. Tessa gives him a half-hearted smile and croaks out a 'hello'.

 

"Did you really have to wait until Aimée left to get deathly ill?" He smiles at her, placing his hand on her blanketed ankle near Harbuu. The length of the German Sheppard’s body spans the length of her lower extremity, her head resting on Tessa’s leg.

 

"Sorry, next time I'll do my best to wait until I'm far away to get christened by an indigenous disease."

 

"Wow, several multi-syllable words in a row," Henri smirks back at her. "You'll be right as rain in no time."

 

"I think she's trying to put on a brave face for you, Henri," interrupts Peter as he takes a seat in the chair he was in earlier. "When she woke earlier we exchanged a brief conversation before she fell asleep again for six hours."

 

"In my defense, you did just reveal that I have malaria, despite the fact that I take my medication religiously."

 

"Eh, we all get it sooner or later. You're one of us now," Henri grins at her as he settles back in his seat. 

 

Tessa huffs in reply, rolling her eyes. "That's what Peter said. When are you getting me out of here?"

 

"I'd say another night here should suffice." Peter states as he hands Tessa another cup of chai. "Why? Not a fan of hospitals?"

 

"Not a fan of weakness," she replies succinctly. "If you two are going to make me stay here another day, at least entertain me."

 

"Well, Henri, do as she says," Peter gives Henri a smile as Tessa hunkers down under her covers, warm with Harbuu and chai. Henri resumes reading to both Peter and Tessa, his rich voice lulling Tessa back to sleep.

 

A week later, she's back to full activity, if perhaps a little more easily fatigued. She decides to withhold her stint in the infirmary from her family, thinking it best not to alarm them. All the same, Henri keeps a watchful eye, knowing that Tessa won't tell him if anything is wrong. In stead of returning to the secondary school, Henri sends Tessa to the World Vision Rehabilitation Center. While there, she counsels young adults who were children soldiers and sex slaves who are trying to re-integrate with their families and society. It's mentally exhausting, but lets her body recharge in the necessary ways. 

 

As soon as she gets the chance, she reads Scott's email, fires off a quick reply without even thinking, and continues on per usual.

 

.::.

 

Despite the lack of an email from Tessa, Scott continues to check for updates and her weekly emails. There is a curious period of silence from her, but he assumes it’s due to lack of connectivity than anything else. It’s addictive, checking her site and reading her emails. He never thought he’d crave her contact so much like this.

 

Upon realizing what he’s doing, he abruptly stops, pushing her out of his mind again. It works. For the most part.

 

In the meantime, Scott’s been traveling back and forth to Toronto, brokering an agreement with CBC sports over being added to the lineup of commentators for the Summer Olympic Games. He won’t be travelling to Rio, but he’ll be eating, sleeping, breathing Olympic madness for the month of August. He could not be more excited about the offer.

 

Shannon — not so much. “I don’t understand,” she says at dinner one evening. “Why do you have to be in Toronto the entire time?”

 

“Because we’ll be filming there at all hours of the day. It’s a great opportunity for me,” he replies. “If all goes well, it could put me in the running to work on Hockey Night.”

 

Raising her eyebrows, Shannon grows even more confused. “I didn’t know this was such a big deal to you.”

 

“At first, the gig didn’t seem to be going anywhere. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, is that when an opportunity falls into your lap, you run with it.”

 

“Such great wisdom, Scott Moir, please, share with me your tales of triumph and woe,” Shannon smirks back at him.

 

Scott rolls his eyes, tossing his napkin at her. “Aren’t you punchy tonight. What’s up?”

 

“Nothing,” she replies, pushing her food around her plate. Scott simply leans on the table, waiting for her to edge towards the point. “Okay, fine. My mother is what’s up. She’s visiting in September.”

 

“Wow, that’s like… over a month from now. Why are you so twisted up about it?”

 

“One day, when I don’t have to get up stupid early for a shift, and I can drink an entire bottle of wine, I’ll explain the unique dynamics of our relationship.”

 

Scott stands, grabbing their plates and taking them to the sink. “I look forward to that day.”

 

Shannon helps him clean up the kitchen and then they head outside to take Norma Jean for an after dinner walk. It’s become their routine of late, cooking dinner, taking her for a walk, then returning for a quiet night in. Occasionally they meet friends or go out, but it’s nothing exciting. Scott loves it. Over the course of the walk, he works up the courage to broach the topic of her helping him watch his brother’s kids for the weekend.

 

“Oh, Scott, I wish I could, but I’ve got to help my dad this weekend. I thought I told you about that? He’s landscaping his backyard.”

 

Scott bumps his fist against his head. “Duh, I forgot. Yeah, you did say that. Sorry.”

 

“No, I’m sorry. It’d be fun. You know I think the world of Charlie’s kids.”

 

“Yeah,” Scott replies as he glances over at her, smiling. “I know you do.”

 

They continue on their walk, waving and talking with various neighbors who’ve come to expect Norma Jean to drop by and say hi every evening. Nothing keeps her away, not even poor weather. Later that night Scott and Shannon settle in, choosing to watch a movie and curl up on the couch. Per usual, they both fall asleep and wake up in the wee hours to head to bed.

 

The next day, Scott heads to the station to inform them that he’ll be spending most of August down in Toronto, but can come up and run shifts in a pinch.

 

“Wait wait wait, let me get this straight,” says Joey as climbs down from the back of the truck, tossing Jane a rag.  “Some guy working the desk has a stroke and they call you up to fill his spot because he can’t even talk? Dunno, man. Sounds like bad juju.”

 

“What do you mean? This is a great opportunity for me. Occasional guest hosting during the hockey season isn’t nearly as exciting as the Olympics. You guys, it’s amazing. All the fervor, the excitement of the games. It’s… it’s electric.”

 

Matt and Jane exchange a glance while Joey wipes an imaginary tear from his cheek. “That was beautiful Scotty. Write me a postcard when you make it big.”

 

“Oh, so you’re some hotshot sportscaster now, are ya?” Barks Matt as the rest of the crew continues to perform their daily maintenance check on the fire truck.

 

“Totally,” Scott replies facetiously. “I’m basically the coolest person you’ve ever met.” As Scott says this he manages to trip over the water hose, stumbling but not falling. He earns a rousing bout of laughter and numerous eye rolls.

 

“Oh yeah, a true rockstar,” states the Captain as he descends from his lofty perch in his upstairs office. “Listen Moir, we won’t count it as leave, just do us proud and maybe represent the station on occasion, alright?”

 

“Of course, Cap. Wouldn’t dream of letting you down,” Scott replies as he receives a meaty thump on the back. If there’s one person Scott wouldn’t dare cross, it’d be the Captain. The man is a living legend, having performed numerous death-defying acts of bravery in his thirty-one years as a fire fighter. Sadly, it’s all he’s got, as his wife left him a few years ago for a forester from Saskatchewan. Strange, but true.

 

He swings by Paul’s and has dinner with both Paul and Sarah, who made some awful vegan monstrosity.

 

“Sarah, I love you like a sister,” Scott states as he cleans off his plate. “But if you ever make that meal again, I will walk out of this house and never come back.”

 

“Damn, I was hoping it would work this time around,” Sarah shoots back, giving him a grin.

 

“Smart-ass.”

 

“Tool-bag.”

 

“Fart face.”

 

“Toilet licker.”

 

“Hey, before you two continue this incredibly grown-up name calling contest, I believe we have an Open House to prepare for,” Paul calls from the hall as Sarah tosses her dish rag at Scott who ducks out of the way and scampers off to the office. They take a seat at the table in the office and discuss asking prices for a solid ten minutes before coming to an agreement. A few other arrangements are made as they open up a few beers and walk out to the back porch, taking a seat in some rocking chairs.

 

“Man, you guys have it made,” Scott states as he stretches slowly. “Great house, wonderful view, potentially awesome neighbors. What could be better?”

 

“A bridesmaid not backing out at the last minute would be pretty great,” Sarah mutters, frowning. “One of my cousins called this morning saying that she can’t make the wedding because her boyfriend scored tickets to some concert and it’s a once in a lifetime chance, or something like that.”

 

“Wow a concert? Must be a good band then.”

 

“Meh, it’s The Rolling Stones. They’re going on their seventh  _Final Tour_.” Sarah scowls petulantly. “Whatever. I’m totally banning her from our New Years Eve party.”

 

“Ah, you’re having it this year!?” Scott asks, surprised. They used to have one every year, but skipped last year due to Paul wanting to ask her to marry him and everything. Priorities and all.

 

“Hells yeah,” Paul replies, high-fiving Scott. “I’ve already locked on all the fireworks. It’s going to be amazing, man.”

 

“Are you going to make that super strong winter solstice drink, Sarah?” It’s this top-secret recipe that’s been handed down for generations in her family. Apparently it’s really hard to make.

 

She shrugs, contemplating. “I guess so. I’ll have to see if I can get all the ingredients. I’d have to get started making it soon.”

 

Scott and Paul share an intrigued look and turn their steely focus back on Sarah. “No way, no how am I telling you the secret recipe.”

 

“Not even me? Your soon-to-be life mate?”

 

“Honey, I love you, but no, absolutely not.”

 

Paul pouts as Sarah changes the topic to Scott’s plans for his niece and nephew. “Pretty much everything you can think of. We’re going to an amusement park and then we’re going hiking on Sunday. I’m going to get that niece of mine to love the outdoors despite her every wish otherwise.”

 

“Ha, I’ve seen her outside. Good luck. I’d say the outdoors are definitely not her thing,” Sarah replies as she takes a sip of her water. “How’s the beer?”

 

“I dunno, why don’t you try some?” Scott says as he wafts the scent her way. “A beer isn’t gonna kill you Sarah. That meal on the other hand…”

 

She whacks him in the arm as Scott dodges her tiny fists. It reminds him of when he was younger, when he’d hang out with Meryl and Charlie and she’d use her tiny hands to maul his arm when he’d say something she found infuriating.  _Little tiny fists of fury._  He smiles, thinking back on those days, back when they were actually friends instead of cold acquaintances. Which reminds him…

 

“Guess who texted me the other day?” Scott offers randomly.

 

“Who?”

 

“Charlie White. Apparently he is going to be a father,” Scott states, making a pleased face. “If that kid doesn’t win an Olympic medal by the age of two, then I don’t know what Charlie will do.”

 

“Oh please,” Paul argues, having also been around Charlie on many occasions when visiting Michigan. “He is quite possibly one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. He’s like a human puppy dog.”

 

Scott laughs, thinking about what Shannon often refers to him as. “That’s funny, Shannon says the same thing about me.”

 

“I doubt it is as kindly meant,” mutters Sarah as she rises from her chair. She has been rather quiet about her thoughts on Shannon, but for some odd reason, she hasn’t taken a shine to her. It baffles Scott, because everyone he knows loves her. Everyone. Sarah just  _tolerates_  her. It’s very strange. “I’m getting a refill, want anything?”

 

“No thanks,” they reply as she heads inside. Scott glances over at Paul who is staring out into the darkness.

 

“Does uh… does Sarah not like Shannon?” Scott whispers. This would be unfortunate as they are all having dinner the following Monday night.

 

“No, no that’s not… no,” Paul replies, hedging. “I can’t tell, to be honest. Her moods have been all over the place lately. I think all the wedding prep is getting to her.”

 

“I thought she hired a wedding planner.”

 

“She did. And then she fired her because the woman was an imbecile. Not only that, but her mom has been driving her insane. Lot’s of stress over stupid things. I found someone that might be a good fit though, so, fingers crossed.”

 

Scott nods as Sarah takes a seat on the porch and they settle into discussion over his upcoming stint as an Olympic commentator. “I had no idea so much prep work was involved. When I got to the station they gave me three huge notebooks and a thumb drive full of stats and game/competition footage. I’ve gotta know all these people like the back of my hand.”

 

“Are you covering certain sports or what? I don’t get how it works.”

 

“I’ll be following Soccer and Swimming. Both of which are not my favorite sports, but whatever. It’s the Olympics. They typically get former athletes in those fields but they screen tested a bunch and none had my  _sparkling personality_.”

 

“I bet you sparkle alright, twinkle toes,” Sarah quips as she crosses her arms. “I thought they had a couple of the female soccer stars commentating.”

 

“They do. Two of my co-hosts are women, as a matter of fact. I’m anchoring the crew and they are my co-analysts. We got Mark Tewksbury for the swimming.”

 

“Too bad we just aren’t as awesome at summer sports.”

 

“I don’t know,” Scott states, shrugging. “Our women’s soccer team gave the US a run for their money during the World Cup in 2015. They got third.”

 

“True,” Paul agrees. “I guess I’ll devote my efforts to cheering for the women’s team then.”

 

“I know I will,” Sarah replies. “When do you head to Toronto?”

 

“The Second for all the big pre-games meetings. I also get to be a co-host for the opening ceremony which will be pretty awesome too.”

 

They go back and forth for another hour, talking about the job and what all he’ll be doing. He plans to spend every spare moment reviewing footage and memorizing stats until the start of the games. As a sports enthusiast it’s fun, but labor intensive.

 

Friday morning he wakes, unusually excited about the prospect of being entrusted with his brother’s kids for a whole weekend. It should be daunting, but he couldn’t be more thrilled. He heads to work, prepared to beg off early so he can pick them up from practice at the rink.

 

Scott checks his watch numerous times, not wanting to be late in picking up the kids from practice. Both Charlie’s kids are trying out for winter sports in the fall and have been spending countless hours on the ice preparing for try-outs. Granted, it’s like… U-6 hockey and singles skating, but Moirs mean serious business in these parts.

 

He picks up the kids and heads to a local pizza place, ordering a huge pie and watching in delight as they stuff their faces, getting tomato sauce everywhere, including their hair.

 

“How did you even manage that!?” He asks as he lifts his nephew, placing him into his booster seat. Scott’s too afraid to say it, but his nephew is a runt. Scrawny as all get out. Hockey is most likely not going to be the sport for him. He’ll wait a few years before breaking the awful truth, however.

 

Several hours later, an exhausted Scott crawls into bed. He gives Shannon a call, asking about her day and chatting about his afternoon with the kids.

 

“I know kids are tiring, but are they always so insane?”

 

‘Word on the street is, absolutely,” Shannon replies. “Amusement park tomorrow, right?”

 

“Yup. I plan to go on every ride at least twice.”

 

“Okay, well if you want any peace tomorrow night, I’d suggest nothing remotely sugary past three. And then feed them plenty of bread at dinner.”

 

“Should I pour whiskey into their juice and dose them with Benadryl as well?”

 

“Hey, whatever works, Moir,” Shannon quips. “Just trying to help you out.”

 

“I know, I know. I appreciate it.” Scott smiles as he stares up at the ceiling, listening to Shannon’s soft voice as she lulls him to sleep.

 

By the end of the weekend, Scott is more than willing to hand the kids back over to their parents. It’s been swell, but he’s not sure he can do it solo.

 

“What, too much excitement for ya? I thought you had more energy than they do?”

 

“I think I do, it’s just that they have so many questions about everything, and then they like to do the same thing over and over and over again. We rode one ride eight times. One of the employees actually asked us to try other rides.”

 

“And how was the hike,” Charlie’s wife asks with a grin. “I bet that was a doozy.”

 

“Surprisingly, not that bad. No sinned knees, no bears chased us, and we got all the way around the loop. Not only that, but they even came to the softball game and cheered me on.”

 

“Of course they did. You’re their favorite,” Charlie mutters in dismay. “I totally had you pegged for getting your butt kicked by my two little terrors. But, I guess you can hack it.”

 

“Oh, I can hack it,” Scott replies assuredly. “I’ll make sure I get Shannon next time around so I have back up, though. September, right?”

 

His brother nods as he shakes Scott’s hand. “Thank you muchly. Glad to know you kept them safe. I’ll make sure you actually get that snow plow for Christmas.”

 

Scott beams at his brother. “Thanks a ton. Have a good night, you two.”

 

When he gets home, he collapses on his sofa, 100% done. Perhaps he was putting on a brave front. Those two wore him out. 

 

A couple days later, Scott checks into his new home away from home for the next three weeks, a swanky hotel close to the station. Shannon came down with him and will hang out until she has to head back to work in three days. His dog is at his mom’s; hopefully not digging up the flowers she just planted.

 

They go out to dinner, having a romantic meal at one of the local restaurants, then return back to the hotel bar for a nightcap. He tries not to think about everything that happened last time he was in a hotel having a nightcap, but his mind keeps flashing back to the evening in question. The feel of Tessa’s skin beneath his, the sound of her breath in his ear, the dark look in her eyes. It gets bad enough that Shannon grows concerned.

 

“Scott? What’s wrong? You’ve been quiet ever since we left the restaurant,” she asks as they step inside the elevator, running her hand along his jaw. He tries to smile, but falters. Instead he shakes his head, exhaling.

 

“Are you nervous about work? You know you’re going to be great, right? It’s not like you’ve never done this before.”

 

Scott blinks, thankful for a plausible reason to keep acting like a buffoon. “Yeah, just last minute jitters, that’s all.”

 

She presses a soft kiss to his mouth and pulls his hand, leading them out of the elevator. Once they get inside, Shannon seems dead set on distracting him. If only it could work.

 

“I’m sorry, babe. Not tonight, okay? Give me a couple days and I’ll be good to go.”

 

Instead he climbs into the shower after checking his phone for the umpteenth time. As though sensing his strife, Tessa has written him an email.

 

.::.

 

02August2016

Scott

 

While I understand how difficult it must have been for you to write that, I believe it is wise to continue taking a break from each other. You want me to not have feelings for you. Please give me time to stop having them.

 

Tessa

 

.::.::.::.

 

It's late afternoon in early and there is a heated football match being played. At eight years old, Tuba is easily the best player on this team of U-14 athletes. Currently the score is 3-0, with Tuba having scored two of the three. Sister Rosa is on Tessa's left, providing a soft commentary on many of the other players and their families as the game continues on. The field is by no means regulation size and the teams aren't entirely equal, but there is a ball and a vocal crowd, and that's all that matters.

 

Tessa is taking a break from her can of a room, where she's been plucking away at her keyboard as she documents points of contact and various interviews. Since she was too weak to perform the requisite labor at the school, Tessa has spent the last week at one of the World Vision rehabilitation centers. 

 

She hasn't had a solid night's sleep since she left the infirmary. It's hard to close her eyes when all she can think about are stories of abject horror and despair that make it impossible to shut off her brain. The whole experience is complex because she is infuriated, but also invigorated by all their experiences to remain passionate on her thesis and eventually her law degree. Everything has a purpose.

 

"Mind if I join you two?" A perky voice from the nearby asks. It's Victoria, the Canadian teacher Tessa met before getting sick. 

 

"Sure! The more the merrier," Tessa replies as Victoria glides over and takes a seat on the grass to the right of Tessa, offering up a couple of cookies in the process. They chat for a few minutes, giving Tessa a chance to understand what it is Victoria is doing during the summer while school is out.

 

"I teach at a private school in Kampala during the school year. Math and Science. During the summer I go home for a month, then return to help out here during transition. July-August tends to be a tricky month for the non-profit, so I help out."

 

"Why so tricky?"

 

"Peak time for college students to participate, lots of moving parts and pieces. I ensure we don't lose anyone and that no one shows up on a milk carton. I have connections for days." Victoria smiles as she nibbles on a chocolate chip. "I understand you two are about to go out for ten days?"

 

Tessa beams in reply as she bumps Sister Rosa's shoulder. "Yes! We've encountered a recurring issue with many of the schools, which I'm sure you're familiar with. Parents need to pay a small fee to get their child uniforms and into school, often times NGOs and the government helps out, and instead of the parent using the money to pay the school, they pocket the money for themselves and keep the child out of school so they can work in the fields."

 

"Can you blame them?" Victoria sweeps her curtain of light brown hair over her shoulder. She has those strange kind of hazel eyes that can't decide what color they want to be. "I've been teaching here for nearly five years. I have yet to go a semester without some similar story. Have you guys considered an incentive program?"

 

Nodding, Tessa scoots back a bit to include Sister Rosa if she has anything to add. "Right now, Sister Rosa, Henri, and I were thinking of fencing in the back part of Saint Augustine, acquiring a goat herd, and then 'selling a goat' in exchange for their child's attendance. The better the attendance, the more incentives."

 

"Goats? That could work. Get milk and meat out of the deal. So where are you going to get the goats?"

 

"I believe that is where me and Sister Rosa come in," Henri states as he takes a seat on the ground behind Victoria and Tessa, hands curled around a hot mug of murky white liquid. "Well, me and many of my friends. We're working that angle right now. I've got a couple possibilities that Tessa and Sister Rosa will be following up on in the next few days."

 

Victoria nods as she absorbs the information. She asks a few more questions that poke holes in Tessa's plan, requiring follow up and contemplation. As Tessa is writing down what she needs to do, she zones out for a bit, only coming back into focus when Victoria and Henri start laughing quietly.

 

"Hmmm?" Tessa asks, gaze still fixed on her always present notepad. 

 

Victoria grins at Henri and shakes her head. "Nothing. I've got to get back to work. Tell our football star I owe him a coke."

 

As she walks past Henri, Victoria squeezes him on the shoulder in a very familiar manner. Tessa watches the entire exchange then turns back to Henri, eyebrow raised, but says nothing. He rolls his eyes and shrugs. 

 

She'd be lying if she weren't curious if Henri had a significant other. The man's been living here for eight years. There's no way someone that good looking has been celibate the entire time.

 

She shakes her head to bring herself back into focus, continuing to write until cheers erupt around her, reminding her that she's supposed to be watching Tuba play. He scored another goal and is soaring around, laughing in delight. It's infectious, his joy. Tessa grins at the dance Tuba's team performs after he scored, thinking back on all the times she's done something similar when watching football or hockey.

 

"That kid is unstoppable," whispers Henri as he sips his tea slowly, watching as the teams crowd around center field in a mass of shirts and legs. Henri swivels his head and watches Tessa for a moment, deliberating.

 

"Yes?" she asks, feeling his gaze but not wanting to tear her eyes away from the antics on the field.

 

"You seem better than you were," he observes quietly. 

 

Tessa raises her eyebrow, but continues to watch the game. "Well, that was nearly two weeks ago. I should hope so." 

 

"No. I mean... from when you got here. You don't seem so... I don't... I don't know."

 

Tessa watches as Sister Rosa rises to go speak with a nearby observer then turns to Henri, perplexed. "Did Aimée mention something to you?"

 

"No, but she's not the only observant person in my family."

 

Tessa narrows her eyes, not buying what he's selling. Henri tends to straighten his back and correct his posture when he's hedging around something. 

 

"That night, a couple weeks ago. I heard you and Aimée... Outside my room."

 

Blanching, Tessa looks down, biting her lip. She shuts her eyes tightly, wishing she'd kept her mouth shut. When she actually loses her temper she tends to lose sense of self and bearing. Common for everyone, but not for her.

 

"I'm sorry," Henri offers quickly. "I only bring it up because you just seem better. And I'm not sure why, because you spent the last week at World Vision. Except for working in the AIDs wing at the infirmary, that's one of the saddest places to be. It's good to see you laughing again."

 

When Tessa came home from the World Vision center earlier, Sister Rosa had brought over Tuba and Isaiah before the game. These three people are easily Tessa's favorite in almost the entire world. Isaiah is quiet and introspective like her, collecting curious objects and tucking them away in his pockets to scrutinize later. Tuba is all explosive energy and laughter, reminding her of Scott. Of course, Scott. They'd played hide and seek earlier, attracting many of the volunteers into their game. It was hectic and fun and yes, Tessa laughed once or twice.

 

"I didn't even know you were at the site this morning," Tessa replies, looking back at Henri.

 

"Briefly. I was on the phone with..." He cuts off for a second and rolls his eyes to himself, then looks at Tessa squarely. "I was on the phone with my daughter. She was about to go to a surfing competition."

 

Freezing, Tessa quickly does the math. Henri is thirty-three. He could easily have a teenager right now. Wow. Woah. She needs a warning sign for information like this. 

 

"How old is your daughter?"

 

"Seven. She lives with her mother and my ex-best friend in San Diego." 

 

Quickly Tessa thinks about all the people affiliated with this organization that are based out of San Diego. She decides she doesn't need to know who those people are.

 

"Does she miss you?"

 

"Eva? Sort of. She understands what I do and where I am, but she doesn't quite get why I’m here and she’s there. I visit about twice a year, give grand stories and play the doting uncle. It’s easier that way.”

 

Remaining silent, Tessa can't figure out how to reply to that. In her opinion, nothing is more important than family. But she's biased because she grew up in a great one. 

 

"Nothing to say? I know Aimée has plenty."

 

"Not my place," Tessa replies quietly. Henri watches her for a moment and nods in understanding. Tessa doesn't want him commenting on her current situation with anyone back home, so she's not going to offer her thoughts on his decision to play mysterious uncle.

 

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just figured it was idiotic not talking openly about my daughter."

 

"Not idiotic. You want to protect her and who she is to you. I'm just someone who works here. I'd be hesitant too."

 

"Just someone who works here?" Henri grins as he drains his mug. "Okay, sure."

 

He rises carefully, shaking out his mug. "I'll need the list of towns you're visiting with Sister Rosa this week so I can inform the elders of your arrival. They like to be prepared of anyone coming to their area."

 

The following morning, Sister Rosa, Tessa, Jimmy their protection and driver, as well as Tuba and Isaiah go off in search of a goatherd to procure. Their focus region is Western Uganda, Ten days of exploration, adventure, strange meals, new customs, faux pas, and negotiations ensue. Tessa frequently finds herself an object of scrutiny by many, if not for her skin, then for her green eyes. She looses count of how many times she gets referred to as a witch. 

 

Taking it in stride, she enjoys each and every day, journaling about the trip so she can recall it accurately in months to come. It doesn't occur to her that not once does she think about Scott. She's got far pressing matters to contend with.

 

In the end, the motley crew returns victorious, not only with a goat deal, but chickens as well. Many chickens. Loud, smelly, messy chickens.

 

The evening she returns, Tessa's sitting at dining table, alone with her impressions and thoughts. She's working in a systematic fashion, transcribing her hand-written notes, double-checking sources, cataloguing interactions. If this works, education in exchange for a goat and a chicken seems like a pretty sweet deal. She only hopes that petty arguments and jealousy will not arise over the animals. 

 

Once Tessa gets working, she tends to lose track of time. Three hours pass, and before she knows it, bedtime has rolled around. As she starts collecting her belongings, she hears footsteps behind her. She sees Henri holding his mug, walking toward her wearing shorts and threadbare t-shirt.

 

"Burning the midnight candle?"

 

Tessa smiles, nodding. "Yeah, my thesis won't finish itself."

 

"Need help with anything?" Henri asks as he ducks into the kitchen. 

 

"No, I'm just wrapping up." Tessa winds up her computer cable, then start organizing her notes.

 

"Want a cup of tea? Decaf."

 

Tessa glances at her watch, shrugging. "Sure."

 

As she finishes straightening up, Henri enters with the two mugs, placing the sacred honey bear in front of her. Tessa's eyes grow large as she holds up the bear for inspection. 

 

"Honey!? Where did you —"

 

Henri shakes his head, placing a finger over his lips. "Best you don't know."

 

She smiles at him and pours a small amount into her tea. "The last project starts tomorrow. You ready?"

 

"Of course. I spent all day planning out what I want each team to complete. I intend to finish the third school in two — three weeks tops."

 

Tessa raises her eyebrows. "Ambitious."

 

"Resourceful." He smiles at her as he looks down at his hands, running his nail along a groove in the well-worn wood. He clears his throat and glances up at her. 

 

"I was talking with Aimée today. She wants me to convince you to bet a case of beer if you do another pull-up challenge with the incoming class. She 'longs for a pint of beer'."

 

Tessa grins, shaking her head at her far away friend. "I'm not sure she'll be able to stay away much longer. She needs people interaction a bit more than you or I do."

 

"Yes, my sister has always been the more outgoing of the two of us."

 

"I'd never guess," Tessa smirks. She sips at her tea, savoring the flavor. When she glances up at him, Henri's gaze is dark, contemplative.

 

"She mentioned that you got another email. From your... from your friend Scott." He looks down at his mug. "She wanted to know how you were doing."

 

"I told her I was fine when we talked earlier. I swear. I'm fine. I'm...” Tessa shrugs. “It’s been good to hear from him,  but I'm kind of over it."

 

At her words and the finality in her tone, he looks up, but keeps his face blank. Being around Aimée has caused them to develop excellent poker faces. Which is both a blessing and a curse.

 

"Ah that's... that's nice.” He clears his throat, glancing at her notes. “How are things going with finalizing the goat acquisition?"

 

His question sets Tessa off into a ten-minute discourse on all the details of the agreement. Henri makes a few points that she scribbles down in her notebook, giving her a couple people to follow up with, and more talking points for Sister Rosa. He agrees that they've got to handle the incentive program in such a way that tension doesn't break out over the animals. In the end, she talks herself around in a circle before feeling even remotely calm again.

 

Henri talks her down from the ledge somewhat, but she cannot deny feeling a little ambivalent. "Was this a terrible idea?"

 

"No, no it's not. I think... I think if we can give these people a way to be self-sufficient, empower them with vocational skills, and educate their children; it's a recipe for success. It's been done before, just with different tribes."

 

“Which is the primary concern.”

 

“Yes, well, that's why you have Sister Rosa.”

 

“True, true.” Feeling a yawn coming on, Tessa covers her mouth and shakes her head. "Sorry. I should head to bed. It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

 

Henri stands and takes their mugs, rinsing them out in the sink. They walk back to their rooms in a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the wilderness around them. Once they reach Tessa's room, she turns to Henri who's standing to the side, arms crossed over his chest. Before she can bid him goodnight, he opens his mouth, shuts it again then shakes his head, laughing at himself.

 

"Sorry I..." he works his jaw for a moment, deliberating. "For what it's worth, Scott is an idiot for letting you go."

 

Completely blindsided, Tessa stares at him for a moment, processing his words and their implication. 

 

"I'm sorry. If that was... inappropriate. It's just..."

 

Tessa smiles, but shakes her head. "No it's fine. That's fine. It's, you know... it's your perspective."

 

He starts backing away, shaking his head at her. "No Tessa, it's a fact."

 

She watches in silence as he returns to his room, unsure of what to do. She decides to play it by ear and see if this was just a momentary lapse in judgment, as most heartfelt exclamations tend to be.

 

The next morning, it's like nothing happened. He remains quiet and respectful, not once giving her an indication that he feels anything other than a professional sense of friendship toward her. Which, all things considered, is probably for the best.

 

.::.::.::.::.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formatting got messed up. Dunno what happened, nor will I spend time figuring it out. Apologies. Thanks for reading. Comments are muy awesome :)


	17. 11.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can say with all certainty that you are much more pleasant to be around when Tessa is in your life."

..::.::.::.

A knock on Tessa’s door wakes her from a restless sleep. She visited the infirmary the previous day to see Dr. Nakato and had the misfortune of happening upon someone infected with rabies being held in quarantine outside the infirmary. Imagine the most accurate depiction of a possessed zombie and that's what someone about to die from rabies looks like. Sleep did not come easy last night.

"What's up?" Tessa croaks as she squints into the early morning sun, arms crossed. Henri is fully dressed and holding a thermos of coffee, looking grim.

"I need a very big favor. Feel free to say no, but I'm not sure who else to go to."

Tessa pulls her door open wider, letting in the sunlight while opening the rudimentary shutters on her windows. She grabs a light pullover and tugs it over her head, pulling her hair up into a messy bun. Henri, waits by the doorframe as she does this, patient and quiet.

Letting out a deep breath, Tessa turns as she leans against the rickety desk in her tiny room. "What do you need?"

"Johannes fell off the roof yesterday at the new primary school and broke several bones and has a concussion. They took him all the way to Kampala for treatment."

"Oh my goodness," Tessa replies, shocked. Johannes is a hyperactive Dutchman who loves Roman architecture, Argentinean poetry, and Russian vodka. "Is he okay? Are you going to see him?"

"Yes, of course. I'm leaving soon. But here's the problem: he was the site manager for the primary school."

"Oh, that is problematic…What about Victoria? She seems to be good at that kind of thing," Tessa replies instantly, not fully grasping in her half-awake state what Henri is implying.

"Victoria is many things, but a site manager she is not. We had a few problems two years ago when she tried her hand at it. Let's just say her current role is a good fit."

"Oh, okay then..." Tessa crosses her arms as she nibbles on her lip thinking of an alternate. Finally she realizes what Henri wants. "No."

"Please Tessa, you know the process, you know who we work with, you know the school site in and out. You even helped design the playground."

"Henri, I am not the kind of person that can coordinate all this stuff. I’m just… I’m just…" she sputters out, still not awake yet and totally unprepared for an early morning attack.

"Tessa, you're easily the most qualified for this job. Besides, of anyone, you should take advantage of this chance to see what'll be involved when you have to get your resource center built."

Frowning in petulance, Tessa sighs, knowing he's right. After a minute of held breaths and silence, Tessa nods her head in acquiescence. Henri smiles and jumps up in excitement, handing over the thermos of coffee and wrapping her into a quick hug.

"Obviously, I would do it, but I'm required in Kampala for the next few days. There are... the government is trying to pass legislation that would effectively make it impossible for us to continue here. Ours and many other NGOs are slowly being edged out. We're all meeting up to see what can be done. There’s only so much corruption we can handle."

After several minutes of debate, Tessa feels her resolve weaken. "Well... alright then," Tessa offers up the smile that is stronger than she feels. "How can I help?"

Two hours later armed with a cell phone, a list of people to keep on speed dial, and a sleeping bag with a week's worth of clothing, Henri drives her to the primary school site. It's located halfway between Gulu and Kampala near Lake Kyoga. Once they arrive, Henri introduces her to the team lead, Hailey. Together she and Hailey will herd this group of students into doctoring up this abandoned school and make it functional in time for school to start.

No pressure.

Before departing, Henri hands over the notebook with all the contacts and daily plans, gives Tessa a grateful smile, and orders Harbuu to remain with her. At least she gets the dog out of this shyster deal.

"This is my third summer doing this," Hailey offers kindly as Tessa watches Henri's jeep kick up grimy red dust along the road, mentally berating herself for being a pushover. "I know you got the short end of the stick, but we've got a great crew of students and I understand you've been doing this kind of thing all summer."

"Yeah, fortunately." Tessa replies as she drops her heavy pack in the room where the women are sleeping. It'll be communal sleeping arrangements for the duration, both for safety and utility. She surveys Hailey, team lead for New England students, and agrees to a cup of chai before getting started. Tessa learns that Hailey is third generation Chinese, speaks three languages and loves to knit. She is also very well aware of who Tessa is.

"My family watches all Olympics regularly. My younger sister is a gymnast for the American team. She's currently not speaking to me because I chose to come here instead of got to Rio for the Olympics to cheer her on."

Tessa's eyebrows dart upward. She too would be resentful if any of her siblings didn't choose to attend the Olympics when she was competing. "Why didn't you go?"

"My older brother is a neurosurgeon on faculty at Harvard. My older sister graduated magna cum laude from Columbia and works at a Hedge fund in New York and makes more money than you or I will ever see. My younger sister is a two-time Olympian. I attend a community college and have no idea what I want to do with my life. The only place I feel like I’m worth anything is here."

Tessa feels lead settle into her gut the more Hailey talks, commiserating over what it's like to be in a family of over-achievers. "I see your point, but don't you think it's a little spiteful, not to cheer her on?"

"Yes," Hailey nods, frowning. "Then again, when I busted up my knee and lost my soccer scholarship to UNC, all she did was give me a smug grin and head off to the gym. We don't have the best relationship."

"Say no more, family is messy business, and I am in no place to judge. Just happy to have you here to lend your expertise." Tessa states as they finish their tea. "Alright then, let's get to work."

And work they do. The primary school was first erected by funds from a Lutheran church in Europe. Funds ran out and the project remained incomplete for four years. Tessa's organization acquired it last year and teamed up with a non-profit, Architecture for Humanity, who completed the design. Creating a building that once complete, it will service grades 1-6 and over 200 students. A plot of land has been set aside for animal husbandry and farming as most students will not progress to secondary school, but return home to work the land.

By day nine Tessa is running on fumes, as are most the students. She's currently putting out the 800th fire since arriving: they've begun to run low on food and a shipment isn't due to arrive for another day. The math wasn't correctly performed on how many students comprised this group and as a result, they're running short. The good news is that they're running ahead of schedule on the project itself. All they're waiting on are the windows and some animals.

"Henri, it's Tessa, please give me a call, thanks." It's the third time she's called him in as many days. He always returns her call, but always encourages her to figure it out. This time, she needs a solution. Before getting a reply, she tries one last ditch attempt: Victoria.

"Wait, how many days supply do you need?" Victoria asks quickly. Tessa's come to consider this woman, perhaps Scott's age, a true asset and a great friend.

"Three. A food truck is coming in two, but just to be safe."

"Alright, I'll get food to you by this evening.”

“I heard Johannes is doing better. Apparently he’ll be as good as new in a month.”

“Yeah, Henri left him in charge when he went to Kampala.”

“How’s that going?” Tessa inquires, ambivalent.

“No idea, but enough about that,” Victoria replies quickly. “How's everything else going?"

"Stressful, but the volunteers are awesome and the school looks great. We should complete the project by the end of the month."

"Wonderful! Hey listen," Victoria clears her throat as her voice grows quieter, "I had the fortune of having solid internet for a good two hours yesterday before we ran out of power. I got to watch some of the CBC coverage of the end of the Summer Olympics. Scott was working the desk! Apparently he's been one of the commentators for the games."

"Oh, that's great," Tessa replies automatically, a loud buzzing in her ears drowning out all noise. Other than a select few, most people don't know that Scott is one of her least favorite people at the moment. Victoria, being Canadian and familiar with Tessa and Scott's legacy, is simply doing her patriotic duty in loving them as a pair. “I bet he's doing a wonderful job. He's a natural at that kind of thing."

"Yeah, he really is. He looks great too. If you and me ever meet up in Toronto after this summer I expect an introduction."

"Hey, if you get my volunteers some food and maybe some decent coffee I'll get you tickets to any Leafs show you want as well as quality time with Mr. Scott Moir."

"Sold!" Victoria crows. "Don't think I'll forget!"

"Wouldn't dare," Tessa replies as she shuts off her busted up cheap local cell phone. She's been so busy lately, everything but what's right in front of her has fallen to the wayside. It's easy to see how the people who work out here, Henri included, come to forget everything else when they do work like this. It's also incredibly easy to lose perspective, but that's for another day of introspection.

"Tessa!" Hailey calls from outside, "I need you to come take a look at this..."

Tessa sighs. No good news ever started with that phrase. Taking a deep breath, she squares her shoulders and faces the next crisis.

.::.::.::.

Scott’s sitting in his hotel room, bored to tears while it pours outside. He’s got four hours before he’s due at the station, but the weather is rubbish and he can only watch so much gymnastics before he starts trying to imitate the gymnasts. After going to the gym and working out for an hour, he takes a quick shower and settles at the desk.

Despite Tessa’s wish, he decides to write her an email. He’s maintained radio silence for two weeks, but after her last blog post about a goatherd and the insane National Geographic-worthy photos she posted, he can’t help but try one more time. Especially because she named one of the goats Ferdinand. She knows he loved the Story of Ferdinand the bull growing up.

He also knows she would care about all the hosting he’s been doing. How exciting it’s been. She knows how monumental the Olympics were for him, for them both. But especially in Sochi, it was their last hurrah, the pinnacle of their careers, and he can’t help but look back on that time with the fondest memories.

All except the part where they came in second. He does his best to forget that. He also does his best to forget the silence between them in his dorm room when they finally had a moment to themselves without cameras or family or coaches. In fact, he tries his best to eradicate it from his memory all together, especially the completely soul crushing hug that ended up in tears and apologies.

Just ignoring the feelings gives him a headache. Fine, maybe he’ll write her an email later.

He goes to the station for a solid seven hours of hosting, making Scott semi-loopy and jittery from the constant coffee they poured into his mug during breaks. When he reaches his hotel room, Shannon is waiting for him, curled up in his bed, sound asleep. She just got off the night shift and drove straight down to Toronto. There’s a semi-official cocktail party of all available winter Olympians tonight and he asked if she’d be able to make it for the party after she got off work.

Of course she’s game and gets prettied up in a lovely blue cocktail dress that makes her eyes utterly captivating. She’s quiet the whole time, which makes him wonder how work went. Instead of responding to his query, she works to ensure that he’s got enough food in his system to counteract the five gallons of coffee he consumed earlier.

It doesn’t occur to him until they get to the event that Shannon has yet to be exposed to all the antics the life of an elite athlete include. Pictures, inside jokes, parties. It goes on and on. Immediately Chiddy and Andrew Poje, both of whom he hasn’t seen since Stars on Ice, sweep up Scott. He introduces them to his elusive girlfriend who missed the show due to her board exams; she turns on the southern charm and greets them warmly. They stand around talking for a bit until a couple more people walk up until it’s a gaggle of them and Scott is practically vibrating with excitement.

It’s a parade of introductions and responses of, ‘Yeah, it’s great to see you too!’ ‘Yeah Tessa wishes she could be here, but hey, saving the world isn’t easy.’ ‘No we aren’t sure if we’re doing the Christmas show.’

By the time they settle down at their table, one glance at Shannon tells him that she is overwhelmed. He reaches out for the wine sitting on the table and pours both of them a glass. Sliding it over, he leans forward.

“What’s up?”

She gives him a warm smile and pats his hand. “Don’t worry about me, Scott. Enjoy your evening, have a good time with your friends. I know it’s been a while.”

And it has. He mingles a bit more, hoping around tables like a ping-pong ball. Everyone has a hug and a story for him, and it feels great. He’s missed this, he didn’t know how much, but he has. Being back around athletes and the network station reminds him of it, and it feels good. Before the meal gets started, one of the directors from the winter Olympic program takes the stage and introduces a montage video of the greatest moments in the last twenty-five years of Canadian Sport. There are several clips of him and Tessa, both from the 2010 and 2014 games. Each time they come on screen, his eyes are glued to her form, just like they’ve always been.

At the conclusion, all medalists are asked to stand for a round of applause. Begrudgingly, Scott rises, feeling as though this little ploy is unnecessary. Gold medalists are asked to remain standing as flowers are brought to their tables. Scott practically frowns as he receives the bouquet, wishing Tessa were here so he could hand it off to her, and she’d give him that knowing look of ‘don’t say anything,’ and ‘please be respectful’. But unfortunately, she isn’t here. Chiddy is though, and he’s laughing from across the table at the look on Scott’s face.

Finally dinner commences and Scott can breathe easy. He neglects to notice the slowly increasing tenseness between Shannon’s shoulders as the conversation turns more and more esoteric. Joannie swings by the table later with her fiancé, giving Scott the chance to size him up and give her an unnecessary blessing.

“When Tessa comes back, I need you two to come to Montréal in October. Marie-France and Patrice want to host a clinic and are inviting several of us to attend.”

Scott smiles, but inside starts to panic. For some odd reason, it never occurred to him back in May how much his act of self-preservation would affect every facet of his life. Every part of him wants to say yes to this, but right now, he and Tessa aren’t even on speaking terms. Shit.

“I’ll do my best, though I believe she’ll be moving to Toronto once she returns since she had to switch Universities. She’ll be doing her law degree come Fall.”

“My goodness, how much more schooling can she do?” Joannie asks, disbelieving. “Either way, do your best to convince her. It won’t be the same without you two.”

“Of course not, how could it be?” he shoots back, trying to hide his inner turmoil.

Over the course of the evening, he proceeds to have the same variant of that conversation at least four more times. Somehow he forgot how often he and Tessa were poached at these events. Eventually Shannon leaves his side to answer her cell phone, which has been buzzing frequently throughout the evening. This allows Scott the chance to roam freely, which is a mistake because it lands him at a table with all his friends, and he desperately needs to forget the fact that he fucked up.

It’s taken him a solid three months to realize it, but he did. Well and good.

It’s easy to pretend in his little bubble back home with the fire station and Shannon and Tom and the boys that he didn’t ruin the longest, most important relationship in his life without so much as a hug goodbye. It’s easy to pretend because he’s been working hard to forget. But the problem is that the skating world will never let him forget. Tessa is his partner. She’s the person who has literally been present for every single moment of his life that’s mattered. And he gave it all up. What for? Why?

He still isn’t sure, other than he never liked that gnawing sensation of impending loss every time he got too close to Tessa. But right now, he’s feeling the loss of her presence in his life keenly, and he knows with all certainly that a life without Tessa is just no good. Too bad they both had to suffer for him to realize this.

Alcohol seems like the best way to handle this idiocy. So when the crew relocates to the bar at the hotel, he orders a round of shots for everyone. And another. And another.

By the time he makes it to his room, he knows for a fact Shannon is going to be livid with him, but he can’t seem to care. Not one bit. Instead, he sneaks in with all the stealth of a bull in a china shop, pulls off his tie and his shoes, and curls up on the floor in the bathroom.

The next morning, he wakes up to a bucket of ice-cold water being tossed on his head.

“What the hell!”

“Oh good,” Shannon smirks. “You’re awake. Who knew it’d be such a challenge to wake you.”

“Oh God. Why is it so bright?”

“Maybe because it’s eleven in the morning?”

This causes Scott to shoot up quickly. Too quickly. He leans his head against the porcelain of the tub and squints up at Shannon. “I feel like shit and I have to be at the station in two hours.”

“Hmmm, then maybe you should get to drinking some water then,” she replies, feeling none too sorry for him.

“Seriously? You didn’t bring any IVs with you?”

“No Scott, when you asked me to attend an Olympic cocktail party,” Shannon snaps back, irritated, “I didn’t plan on having to give you intravenous hydration because you drank half the liquor in the bar. Here’s some motrin. Take a shower, I’ll go pick up some breakfast.”

Not having the energy to argue, he does as he’s told, wishing he could purge the toxins from his system more rapidly. When he climbs out, he feels only semi-human. He glances at the bed and spots Shannon’s packed bag sitting neat and tidy at the end. She was supposed to stay until the end of the games. Apparently she changed her mind.

While he’s waiting for her to return, he shoots off an email to Tessa. Brief, just mentioning that everyone asked about her, and that everyone misses her — him included. He neglects to apologize for being an asshat, but he figures that’s an in-person kind of thing.

When Shannon returns, she tosses him a wonderfully greasy breakfast sandwich and sets a piping hot cup of coffee on the nightstand. “You’re heading back today?”

Shannon takes a seat in the chair at the desk as she peels a banana. “Yeah. I got called into work. Last night we had a doctor get caught having an affair with one of the administrators and both are now on probation until… well whenever.”

Scott watches her for a few moments, asking a couple other questions and getting very short answers. She’s being cagey, and this is troublesome. Maybe he said something. Maybe he did something. He doesn’t know.

“Other than getting super drunk last night, did I do something to piss you off?”

Shannon shrugs, shaking her head, continuing to eat her banana. They continue to eat in silence, the tension mounting. Ten minutes later, Scott is about ready to crawl out the window when finally Shannon clears her voice and talks.

“I just…” she exhales, long and slow. “I keep forgetting that you’re this person too. This… this guy who gets applauded at dinners, who has entire arenas cheering for him, who’s been skating his whole life. ”

She takes a breath and lets out days worth of frustration, continuing: “I had a really shitty shift and then I drove down here on zero sleep so I could go with you to this fancy party. But the whole time, I felt like you didn’t want me there. And then I had to stand around and listen to people who’ve known you for twenty years tell all these stories about you and Tessa. Sweet Jesus that montage before dinner was like icing on the cake.“

The more she says, the faster her words get, and the heavier her accent becomes. She looks back up at him, her eyes dry, but full of sorrow.

“I’m used to the Scott Moir who shows up in my emergency department at two am with a cup of coffee to get me through the graveyard shift. I’m used to the guy who drives a pick up truck and wears a ball cap and sings off key to Johnny Cash. I… I love that guy. But…”

He can feel his heart beat in his ears and it isn’t because he’s hungover. She just admitted she loves him and he can’t tell if she’s about to break up with him or what.

“But what?”

“I don’t know. I feel like there’s another side of you I don’t even know. And that worries me.”

Scott frowns. “That’s not true. I’m the guy you know. I’m the guy that drives the truck. That’s me. It always has been.”

“And what about the guy who wins medals and skates with this beautiful woman? Up until last night, I’d never seen a clip of you two together, and I gotta say, if I’d seen it earlier on in our relationship, I’m not sure we’d still be together.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I am terrified of whatever it is that you have with Tessa, because… you can’t… you can’t fake that Scott.”

“Yes you can, we did it for years.” He gets very still and feels the air leave his lungs. “I’m sorry, I haven’t actually done much to expose you to… all of this, either.”

She shakes her head, looking down at the ground. “And you know…. It’s…It’s hard sometimes, being up here, away from home. But I’ve got my dad. And I’ve got you. At least I think I do.”

“You do,” Scott says as he scoots to the edge of the bed, reaching out for her hands. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that.”

“You didn’t. I mean, if I felt that way, I did it all on my own,” she sighs, curling her fingers against his. Shannon looks at him, giving him this broken smile he’s only seen on her once, and it was after she got her divorce papers. She lets go of his hands and stands slowly, walking to the window. She looks outside for a couple moments and turns, and then shakes her head, murmuring ‘unbelievable’. He’s about to ask, but she turns again and walks to the bed and grabs her bag.

“I’ve got to head back for work. Let’s take a break for a couple days. Call me when you get home, okay?” she says quietly, acting like they didn’t just have an incredibly tense conversation.

“Wait, you’re just going to leave?”

“I need to think and figure out if… if I want to do this.”

“Do what? Be with me?”

“Oh, I want to be with you Scott,” Shannon says as she walks up to him and gives him a firm kiss. “But I’m not sure if I want to be with Tessa, too.”

She turns and walks towards the door, pulling it open quickly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he calls out before she exits. She turns and looks at him, giving him that damn smile.

“You’ll figure it out.”

She leaves him alone in his quiet room with an empty bed and coffee that tastes like burnt misery. He drinks it quickly and downs another bottle of water, hoping he won’t smell like a hobo at the station. Just before he leaves, he walks to the window to check the weather and discovers what it is that Shannon was mumbling about.

Just down the way, he has a view of the Yonge-Dundas Square which is plastered with billboards and ads. On one of them is the one and only Tessa Virtue, performing a grand jeté, wearing LuLu Lemon yoga gear. He completely forgot about the fall ad campaign. The billboard flashes and then it’s one of the Dufour-Lapointe sisters, mid-workout.

He stands there for nearly five minutes watching the billboard that flashes different pictures of women every ten seconds. It takes nearly two minutes before it flashes to Tessa again, this time in a different pose, same intensity. He wishes the billboard would freeze on her, but it changes again a couple seconds later.

It doesn’t occur to him until he enters the elevator that those pictures were taken the day before the shit hit the fan. Despite that, it doesn’t stop him from spending a solid hour later that night watching the billboard, cataloguing how many images they have of Tessa.

.::.::.::.

Tessa, Sister Rosa, Henri, and Victoria are all sitting outside in the shade eating dinner as Tuba and Isaiah play with several local children. It's been couple days since Tessa has returned from the primary school and they're celebrating its completion.

Victoria arrives with a bottle of wine and cheese, which are hard to come by unless in town. Tessa cradles the bottle of wine for a solid five minutes before agreeing to part with it. All in all, she’s sad for the project to be over. While incredibly challenging, she could not have found a better partner than Hailey. She was even-tempered and resourceful, and all the volunteers respected her immensely. Without her, Tessa is pretty sure they'd still be slaving away. That or the school might have collapsed.

"Don't be silly," Victoria chimes, as Tessa grows self-deprecating. "Johannes called me when he visited the site with Henri, singing your praises to the heavens. Don't sell yourself short, kiddo."

Sister Rosa remains quiet like always, humming in agreement when all exclaim that the wine is absolutely delicious. Tessa inquires after Michael, Sister Rosa's brother who has recently returned home after leaving the Central African Republic, where he was training some of the Ugandan People’s Defense Force. He once was a high-ranking member of the UPDF, but retired after the corruption grew to be too much for him. Now, he contracts his services as needed.

"He's well decorated, Michael is," Henri offers as he passes around some fruit and cheese. "He was one of the first people I met when I came here. He introduced me to Sister Rosa, taught me how to fight, and saved my life."

"Do not be dramatic, Henri," Sister Rosa replies. "Michael took Henri on a hike in the Murchison Falls National Park. Henri fell and Michael brought him home."

"You neglect to tell the part where he carried me on his back for nearly twelve kilometers through steep terrain and dangerous areas."

Sister Rosa waves off Henri's claim and changes the topic to how things when for Henri in Kampala. He frowns, looking grim. "Not good, I'm afraid. It is worse than we feared. There have been… threats against some of the organizations. Yes we do good things here, but jealousy arises around those who are fortunate enough to have some success.”

“Who’s making the threats? Locals? The government? Military?” Victoria rattles off several possibilities.

“We cannot tell who they are coming from. It’s worse in some of the towns along the border. We've got until October for the government to come to a decision."

"And then what?" Tessa sips her wine to covering the increasing sense of ambivalence she is developing towards her own venture in his country.

Shrugging, Henri offers a weak smile, then turns his gaze to Isaiah, who is climbing up a tree to fetch a nest. Rising to ensure Isaiah doesn't injure himself, Henri calls back, "Not sure."

Leaning back against Harbuu, Tessa glances at Victoria who is wearing a concerned expression as she watches Henri play with Isaiah. As of yet, Tessa still has no idea what's going on between those two, and even though it's none of her business, she can't help but wonder. They'd make a good couple. Then again, Victoria is an agreeable person and attractive; she'd be a good match for anyone lucky enough to keep her.

Henri on the other hand... Tessa frowns. He is prone to a type of brooding stoicism that borders on frustrating at times. Sure, he’s attractive in that rugged adventure-seeker kind of way, and he’s ridiculously intelligent, but still. She glances up again as she hears laughter, watching as Henri holds Isaiah upside down, the young boys arms flapping around. When Henri smiles, she's reminded again that he's related to Aimée. His dark brown eyes glitter with mirth, crinkling in the corners. Far too complex for his own good, that's for sure.

Later that evening, Tessa sits in the backseat with Harbuu while Henri drives and Victoria sits in the passenger seat. Glancing between the pair, yes, Tessa thinks to herself, they would make a wonderful couple. After they drop off Victoria at a nearby family home of one of her fellow teachers from Kampala, they drive back to their quarters.

With subtle badgering on Tessa's part, Henri shares what she is so desperate to know about. "We dated a couple years ago and it was good, but I'm not..." Henri clears his throat, glancing at Tessa quickly. "I'm not built for relationships."

"Sounds like a cop-out to me," Tessa murmurs.

"No it's just... Victoria is a great person, but I don't think I'm the right fit for her, and I felt it was unfair to continue on in a relationship that I had no intention of progressing further than casual dating."

"Let me guess, she wanted more and you were too afraid to commit."

Henri makes a face of displeasure. "No I'm not like the men of my generation who fear commitment. It's just that if I'm going to commit, it's going to be a hundred percent and the woman has to be worth it, because I would give up everything for her."

"Why give up anything? Why not live on together? Victoria is here, you're here. You have loads in common. You wouldn't have to change anything."

As they pull into the lane leading to the school, Tessa keeps looking at Henri, feeling her matchmaker instincts whispering to life again. He is not to be swayed, however.

Henri leans over the console close to her face, his voice gritty with frustration and his Scottish accent peaking through, "I fell in love a long time ago and got my heart smashed. If I were to fall in love with anyone, it would have been Victoria, but the feeling was not there, only a deep sense of caring, but not love. I will not subject someone to the same hurt I felt because of a lack of sentiment on my part."

Tessa nods as Henri pushes open the driver's side door with too much force and slams it shut. She remains in the jeep a few more minutes as she watches him stomp off to his room. Clearly, she hit a sore point.

Two days later, the goats arrive and all thoughts of matchmaking fall to the wayside.

.::..::..::.

“Be with you and Tessa?” Paul makes a sour face. “What does that even mean?”

“Exactly,” Scott says as he settles in his seat across from Paul. They’re celebrating the selling of not one, but two of their flipped homes. Payday is a sweet and merry time. “She came with me to the function, then got all butthurt when I didn’t want to spend my entire time with her.”

Paul chews on his lip for a moment. “Why did you invite her then?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I introduced her to everyone and we spent most the evening together, but it got to the point where I wanted to go out with a bunch of my friends and I figured she wouldn’t have any fun because she doesn’t know those people.”

“So maybe you should have waited for introducing her at a smaller gathering, something more intimate and less… alcohol-laden?”

“You’re saying it’s my fault?” Scott frowns, irritated. “That’s ridiculous. I can’t help it if she’s concerned about Tessa’s role in my life.”

“Which is what, exactly?” Paul asks, leaning forward on his elbows in a sardonic manner.

“What do you mean?” Scott evades, looking at the beer list.

“When has Tessa’s presence in your life not caused a problem at one point in time or another?”

Scott drops the menu, giving Paul a dark look. “That’s not fair and you know it.”

Paul holds up his hands in surrender. “Hey, all I’m saying is you’ve done virtually everything imaginable to shield Shannon from Tessa. If a little bit of exposure at a function caused this much of a problem, then think about how it’s going to be when Tessa gets back.”

Scott’s about to mention the fact that he and Tessa aren’t really talking anyway, but Sarah appears and the conversation veers off in another direction.

Later that night, he calls Shannon, but gets her voicemail immediately. That means she’s either deep in the hospital or in the middle of a trauma. Leaving a message for her to return his call, he settles at his table and looks at the packet in front of him.

It’s a contract with CBC. Just like he hoped, the Olympics coverage got him a job offer on one of the sports shows. It won’t start until December, but it’ll mean that he’ll be spending nearly every weekend in Toronto. He hasn’t signed anything yet, wanting to discuss it with Shannon first. He also wants to bring her by his property, but the way things stand right now, he’s not sure that’s the best idea.

By 1:30 she still hasn’t returned his call so he brews a small pot of coffee, fills one of the jumbo mugs to full capacity and adds a touch of sugar. He enters through the ambulance entrance, waving at a couple of the medics who are writing their call sheets in the office. Glancing around, it seems like everything is quiet, so he’s curious why she hasn’t returned his call, but continues on to the doctor’s station where they do all their charting.

He spots a tall man dressed in the same dark blue scrubs all the doctors wear, typing quickly at a raised station.

“Excuse me,” Scott interrupts. “Have you seen Dr. Mitchell?”

The man takes a second to break from his charting-induced trance and turns, giving Scott a blank look. Blinking hard, he gives a quick smile and nods. “Yeah, she’s in radiology. Just had a nasty trauma sweep through.”

The doctor nods at one of the trauma bays, which looks like a bloody hurricane hit it. This is the calm in the eye of the storm then. Emergency departments are such strange places.

“How long do you think she’ll be?”

“Just a few more minutes, if you wanna take a seat, I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Scott lets him know where he’ll be and heads over to the charting room. The medics inside are sitting around, shooting the breeze while the lead finishes typing up the call.

“Busy night?”

“Giant multi car motor vehicle accident on 401,” offers one of the medics. “Blood and guts everywhere. Got to use the jaws of life.”

“No way,” Scott replies, crossing his arms. “Any fatalities?”

“A couple. One was a kid. Not good.”

Scott nods solemnly as the conversation picks up to the annual softball tournament next weekend between the fire station and the rescue squad. By the time Shannon enters, they’ve thrown out some outrageous wagers on who the winner will be. Scott can only hope that the kid who played baseball in college is no longer working at the rescue squad.

“Is this about the game next weekend?” Shannon asks as they walk outside into the ambulance bay.

“The one and only. Here, figured you could use this,” Scott says as he hands over the mug of coffee. She opens the lid and inhales deeply, taking a long sip.

“Long night?” he asks, watching her closely. There are dark circles under her eyes and it’s clear she hasn’t been sleeping well lately.

“Long week,” she replies. “They fired that doctor… for several reasons, but that was what broke the camel’s back. We’ve been interviewing applicants all week, but none seem to be a good fit. If my dad specialized in emergency medicine, I’d ask him to apply.”

“Aw, how cute would that be? You guys could wear life-saving capes and heal all the sick and injured together.”

“Aren’t you funny,” she quips, punching him lightly in the arm. “I caught the closing ceremony coverage. You did great.”

“You think so? I was so tired by the end I have no idea what I was saying.”

“Eh, all y’all did.”

“Y’all?” Scott echoes, grinning. He loves mocking her accent.

With a huff, she rolls her eyes. “Was there something you needed, or did you just come here to mock me?”

“Nope. Just missed you. Wanted to see if you’d be around for dinner tonight.”

Her lips pressed in a thin line, he can tell she’s running through her options. Finally she settles. Nodding, “Sure. I have the next three days off, so dinner should work. Can we make it late though? I fully intend to sleep for twelve hours.”

Scott nods, reaching forward and grabbing her free hand. “Yeah, just let me know when. I’ll throw something together.”

She gives him a raised eyebrow, suspicious. “For some reason, I doubt that, but I sure will.”

The share a quick kiss and he heads home while she returns inside.

Later that day, she arrives just as he’s coming back from a walk with Norma Jean. She’s holding a six-pack and her overnight bag, both of which bode well. He reaches out for her bag and leans in for a kiss, glad to have her back. Judging by Norma Jean’s wagging tail and fancy trot inside, she too is happy to see Shannon.

Dinner goes well as they discuss their weeks, and acknowledge that it’s much better going through challenging times together than apart. Finally, Scott bites the bullet and talks about the elephant in the room.

“Look, I just want to be open about this, but when Tessa comes back, she and I are going to have some things to work through.”

“What, the part where you said you didn’t want to be in a relationship with her?”

“No, more like the part where I said I didn’t want to be her partner anymore,” Scott frowns, trying to ignore the look of surprise on Shannon’s face.

“Okay, I might be new to this whole Ice Dancing thing and the weird intricacies of your relationship, but even I know enough to say that was stupid. What the hell?”

“I freaked out, okay? I was perfectly happy the way things are and then she had to go and tell me how she felt.”

“Scott, I’m not sure if you forgot this, but you almost slept together,” Shannon states plainly. “Clearly you weren’t completely happy. Either with us or with you two.”

“I was happy with you and me,” he replies quickly, not wanting there to be any doubt. “Very happy.”

“And you and Tessa? How was that going?”

“Good… for the most part.”

“Except for the part where you wanted to sever ties completely.” Shannon sighs, shaking her head. “Scott, I’ve been with you for almost a year. I’ve been with you when Tessa wasn’t here, when she was here, and after she left. I can say with all certainty that you are much more pleasant to be around when Tessa is in your life.”

Scott thinks about how hard it was earlier in the year with her here. The constant struggle. And somehow he was better? Huh.

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since she left, you’ve been… I don’t know, tense… absent, maybe? Like you’re a ball of energy that needs to get worked out. Maybe it’s because you haven’t been skating that much this summer too, I’m not sure.”

“Skating isn’t… skating is hard to do when it’s just me.” This is the first time he’s allowing himself to acknowledge this. In order to forget about Tessa, he’s been avoiding the rink.

“I can tell,” she says as she takes a swig of her beer. “Hey, let’s do what we do. When Tessa gets back, make it right with her. Introduce us. I swear, I’m a big girl and I know she is too. Besides, won’t she be living in Toronto?”

Shit. He forgot about that. “Yeah, about that…”

Scott grabs the packet the network sent over and slides it forward. “What are your thoughts on this?”

They spend the rest of the evening discussing what he should do next, and then head to bed.

.::..::..::.

In early September, Tessa hitches a ride to Gulu with Henri to run a few errands, namely interview with a couple women who have applied to be Tessa’s Ugandan counterpart for the Vocational Resource Center. The ride is quiet for the most part, both driver and passenger caught up in the activities they need to accomplish in town. Nearly two hours later, they arrive while the market is still busy and thriving. They gather a few necessities, visit the shops to collect the extraneous items, and then agree to meet back up at a popular restaurant within two hours.

Tessa meets with three applicants, but she only feels comfortable entrusting so much to one of these ladies, Olivia. She received a degree in business from Makere University and is incredibly intuitive and competent, having worked in Kampala for three years a technology firm. Half-way through their meeting, Tessa realizes that she needs to work on relinquishing her tight-fisted control and be willing to delegate. She decides to talk it over with Henri later to get his opinion.

Two nights later, a bunch of the staff are sitting in the main hall, discussing the plans for the group, which will involve creating safe drinking water, more sexual health education, and constructing a more sturdy fence for the goat pasture near the school. The fence is a more pressing concern as two of the wily suckers have escaped already. They were recaptured, but Tessa and Sister Rosa spent too much time procuring those little buggers to let them escape now.

After the staff disperses for the night, Tessa goes outside to the pull-up bars, not having had a chance to work out much that day. In doing so, she catches Henri take off for an evening jog along the lane between the site and the school, nearly five kilometers. She goes with him two or three times a week, but her legs only let her do so much running before they remind her that she’s at their mercy. Damn legs.

Henri returns much quicker than expected, nearly sprinting back to Tessa, yelling for her to grab his jeep keys. Upon return, she watches as he tosses some rope in his jeep and whistles for Harbuu.

“What’s wrong?!”

“Blasted goats. They’ve gotten out of that shite fence!”

Tessa hops in the jeep and they peel off down the road, stopping to wrangle some of the younger goats into the back of the jeep. There is only so much space and Harbuu can contain her excitement for only so long. After about two hours, they catch every single goat that escaped, triple counting their final numbers in the end.

They secure the gate and run the perimeter with care, making sure the goats won’t escape overnight. Finally they load up the jeep and head back, drenched in sweat. It's crazy and maddening and utterly exhausting because goats are right up there with donkeys and sheep on the stubborn/stupid scale. When Tessa stops to think about it though, she dissolves in laughter.

"What's so funny?" Henri asks, wiping the sweat from his brow. They've already parked out front, but are sitting in his jeep, chatting.

"I can't believe this is what my life has come down to," Tessa replies as she leans her head back on the headrest, staring straight ahead. "A few months ago, my biggest concern was getting my student's grades turned in for the classes I TA’d, finishing my papers, and training for a skating event."

"And now?" he inquires, casting her a sideways glance.

"Now I negotiate for goat herds and plot the grounds for future school sites. I haggle with locals over their crops and discuss school contracts with parents. I teach about HIV and safe sex. My chief concern at the moment is getting clean water to the primary school. This is everything and nothing like what I thought it would be."

"What's wrong with that?"

Tessa shakes her head, "Absolutely nothing. I guess... I guess I'm learning how to let go a bit and not stick so rigidly to my preconceived, and often incorrect, notions."

"It's the biggest hurdle to cross when westerners come out here. Mzungu try to impose their beliefs and infrastructures on an incredibly complex environment." Henri shrugs, scraping his beard with his fingers. "Don't knock yourself though. I think you are much more receptive and flexible than you give yourself credit for."

"Nah, it's all smoke and mirrors," Tessa sighs. "Anything good that has happened was all Sister Rosa. I'm pretty sure I screwed up more than I helped."

"Hey, that's not fair." Henri turns to her, frowning. "I wouldn't have tasked you with that school project if I didn't think you could handle it."

"Yeah, and look what happened; nearly everything went wrong."

"No, something went wrong, you asked around, got help and fixed the problem. Why do you think all my Site Managers have a phone glued to their ears? It's not because they like talking on it, that's for sure."

"Yeah, well... I mean… I'm just glad it's over."

Henri smirks, leaning the side of his head against the seat, watching her. "I hate to break it to you, but it's never over."

"I know, I know. But my stint as a site manager has come to a close."

"What about your own project?"

“When the time comes, I'll freak out, but until then, I'll just prepare all I can and hope for the best."

Henri laughs, causing her to give him a sharp look. "What?"

"It's just... I don't know, you think differently about things than I'm used to," Henri replies. "It's not wrong, just different."

Tessa turns to him, propping her arm on the back of the seat. "Different? That's a politically correct way of saying you think I'm wrong."

"No, honestly. I approach things differently than Aimée, she approaches things differently than Jason or Victoria."

"Do you think I'm avoiding the reality of the situation?" Trying not to sound defensive, Tessa comes off exactly as that.

"You're not avoiding it, I just exposed you to the challenges. It's how you deal with it that will dictate how you handle it the second time around."

Falling silent, Tessa drops her gaze, chewing on the corner of her lip in thought. All the shit she dealt with, the sleepless nights, the long trips on dusty, bumpy roads, the constant fear that she was going to screw up? It was so she could learn.

"So you sent me off without any clue what I was doing to see if I would screw up, or so I could learn?"

"The opportunity presented itself. It wasn’t purely so you would learn, but that was an added bonus. I fully believe in 'see one do one teach one' and you were ready. You've had the foundation for a while now. I thought it was time to put all your learning into action. Trust me, I would not have sent you out there if I didn't think you could handle it."

"I spent the entire time thinking I couldn't handle it!" Tessa rebuts, irritated.

"Hey, look at me," Henri reaches out and softly taps her shoulder. "It's over and you did it. It's completely normal to feel that way. If you went in thinking you knew everything, you'd screw it up. All we ever ask is that you stay receptive to ideas, flexible under stress, and rise above your situation. Now you have a better grasp of what we go through on ground here, so when you start getting these crazy ideas for your proposal, you'll think twice."

Tessa nods, unable to argue with his logic. She tries not to dwell on the seventeen different meltdowns she had, but the overarching sense of inadequacy definitely made her confidence take a hit.

"Johannes and I did a walk-through with the engineers, Tess. You guys did great. What more do I need to say?"

Shaking her head, Tessa sighs. "Nothing. I just get like this sometimes. I'll get over myself soon enough. Just send me out to catch more goats. I got that covered."

Henri laughs at her self-deprecation, giving her a warm look. They fall quiet for a few moments, watching each other in the dim light. Suddenly he cracks a slow growing smile and breaks eye contact, looking down in his lap for a moment. Tessa's eyebrows draw together, confused and contemplating removing herself from his jeep. Before she can turn though, he reaches out and cups her cheek, kissing her softly.

It's brief, and she's pretty sure her first kiss was longer than this, but that doesn't diminish it in any way. He stays close to her, to where she can feel his breath, the scruff of his beard on her cheek. Eyes closed, she presses her lips together for a second, savoring, then turns her head and kisses him, harder, longer, rougher.

As with all things, she realizes that this is probably a bad idea about halfway through and that she should probably stop. Oddly enough Henri must have the same thought, because they pull away at the exact same time, breathing heavily. Watching each other in the darkness, his eyes are inscrutable. Tessa wipes her mouth, shaking her head at herself.

They both exit the jeep and shut the doors, the sound reverberating in the quiet. Walking quietly, they continue past the main hall toward their rooms. When they reach Tessa's, she removes the chain from her neck that bears the key to unlock the door.

Henri's voice calls out, raspy in the night, "I'm not going to apologize for that."

She turns, leaning against her door. Shaking her head once, she replies, "I wouldn't ask you to."

When she shuts her door, she closes her eyes hard and sighs at herself. What the hell is she doing? "What the hell am I doing?"

She doesn't know. Of course not. Clearly.

The next morning, he acts like nothing happened and she acts like nothing happened. Except it did. But they're adults, so obviously they're going to be adult about it. She manages to avoid him for three days until it becomes painfully obvious that she's avoiding him because she insists on working and reading in her room instead of the main hall.

"Are you avoiding me?"

She glances up from her bed, where she's reading with her door open to let some breeze into the stifling room. She pulls the book away from her face and looks at him leaning against her doorjamb, arms crossed casually.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to have feelings for me."

He frowns, looking down. "Why?"

"I don't want you to get hurt."

His eyebrows draw together as his eyes narrow. "I'm not a kid, Tessa. I don't need you to protect me."

They watch each other for nearly a minute. Tessa replies, her voice soft and brittle, "I don't want to get hurt either."

He lets out a cross between a laugh and a sigh, something sad and miserable. Shaking his head, he pushes off from the door and walks away. She goes back to her book, seeing but not reading. He returns a few minutes later wearing his running shorts and shoes.

"Forget anything ever happened, okay? The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable around me. You've only got a couple weeks left here, and I'd rather enjoy them with a good friend than have you worried about something that's never going to happen."

She bites her lip then nods, setting her book on her chest. He gives her a reassuring smile then walks off to go for a jog. She throws her arm over her face and wishes for her heart to stop hammering in her chest.

Life was so much easier when she had no prospects whatsoever.

They return to normal, eating meals and spending their evenings working in the hall. Occasionally she catches him watching her, but she can't read anything behind the look except observation. He leaves for a couple days then returns saying that Hightower is coming for a peace talk summit in South Sudan and wants Tessa to go.

Jimmy and a couple other staffers from America will also be attending, which makes Tessa a little bit more comfortable with the plan. Just like when she contracted Malaria, she doesn't tell her family, fearing they will worry.

The trip from start to finish is memorable, to say the least. Though the drive itself is awful and dangerous, the actual summit is extraordinary. Leaders from all over Africa, NATO, and the UN creep into the area through various methods of travel. The focus is cultivating and fortifying peace in a nation overcome by decades of internal struggle.

The talks are proceeding ahead as planned; however there seems to be an underlying hum of tension. It’s hard to pinpoint from whom or where, but it’s like walking into a bar with two opposing teams facing off and someone is just waiting for the wrong word to be said to let loose some havoc. Tread lightly seems to be the motto of the trip.

It is then that Tessa realizes that the next step of the non-profit she’s been working for is South Sudan. They've already been working at one of the internally displaced persons camps for a couple years, but she gets a much larger grasp of the direction of the organization when she travels to a camp a couple hours from Juba that contains 40,000 people. The sheer volume of people is overpowering; struggles over water acquisition, grain, healthcare, and education are the focus.

It's humbling and overwhelming and sobering all at once.

She meets many people over the course of the week — UN ambassadors, NATO peacekeepers, American and Ugandan military, dignitaries and diplomats. Dr. Hightower has her own entourage of well-intentioned individuals like Tessa, though much more qualified and competent that she. It’s a rude awakening to realize she’s simply a cog in Dr. Hightower’s machine, but a useful one all the same. They shuffle from place to place, in and out of various buildings, medical centers, and establishments that didn't even stand two years ago.

As a cap to the event is The Festival of Fashion and Arts for Peace, an event started years ago after Aukuja de Gawang founded it in hopes of restoring and cultivating South Sudanese culture. This is also an important event because there will be a concert that has attracted several celebrities who've agreed to raise funds on behalf of a national museum for the country. Most notable is Beyoncé.

"Wait. Beyoncé?" Tessa stops in the middle of the street, shocked. "As in, Beyoncé Knowles, Queen Beyoncé, wife of Jay-Z and mother of Blue Ivy, Beyoncé?"

“Yes, Ms. Tessa,” replies Jimmy, grinning from ear to ear. “That one.”

“Oh… interesting,” she states, contemplating. “So… I think we should try to meet her.”

Jimmy merely frowns as Tessa breaks from the group and walks in the direction of the concert venue. He casts a look at all the people walking toward the hotel then back to Tessa who stops and gives him a mischievous smile. Sighing, Jimmy struts over to her, acting nonchalant. “I hope you know what you are doing, Ms. Tessa.”

“Not a clue,” she states as she tucks her hand in the crook of his arm. “Isn’t it fantastic?”

.::.

“Can you believe it?” Sarah exclaims as she holds up her phone, revealing a picture Tessa posted on twitter. “Tessa met Beyoncé. Our Tessa, met Beyoncé.”

“Yeah, in South Sudan,” Paul notes with a frown. “What was she even doing there? One doesn’t casually stroll up to South Sudan.”

Scott rolls his eyes as Meg and Sarah exclaim in excitement, completely disregarding Paul’s concern. They’re all gathered at a local watering hole, enjoying a Friday evening. Meg’s husband plays the bass in a jazz band and is currently serenading them with a wicked cover of All Along the Watchtower.

“I swear, that girl is going to take over the world,” Meg states assuredly. “Which reminds me! I think we should have a surprise party for her when she gets back, you know, invite a bunch of people, keep it low-key, nothing too crazy.”

Scott glances at Paul and Sarah who both nod at the same. She finally replied to one of his twenty emails, explaining that sure, they can talk when she gets back. It was still concise and lacking her usual loquacious excitement. Still, it’s the only sign of hope he’s gotten all summer. Hopefully he’ll be permitted at the party.

“Where you want to host it?” Scott asks Meg as he spots Shannon walking in.

“I dunno,” she frowns. “I hadn’t got that far yet, just wanted thoughts.”

Shannon slides into the seat beside Scott, smiling hello at everyone. “Thoughts on what?”

“Tessa’s coming home party,” Sarah offers. “Paul, we could do it at our place.”

“You want to host a party at our house a few weeks before our wedding? I’m sorry, have you been around yourself lately?” Paul shakes his head emphatically. “Absolutely not.”

Scott shares a surprised look with Meg. Before Sarah can reply, Meg intervenes.

“Wait, what about… Shoeless Joe’s?”

“It’s not a bad idea, I’d just wait until a couple days after she gets back. Give her time to stabilize.” Scott replies. “I’ll ask my uncle and see what he wants to do.”

As the evening passes, Scott asks Shannon to dance. “I don’t know Scotty boy, I’m a pretty good dancer. Don’t want to make you feel bad or anything.”

“Oh, is that so?” Scott asks, grinning at her as he walks them over to the dance floor.

“Sure thang sweet cheeks,” she replies. “I was a debutante and I’m a bonafide southern belle. Of course I know how to dance.”

She does too. Graceful and practiced, and not once does she try to lead. They’ve danced before, but typically it’s slow and they’re pretty tipsy. They dance through a couple songs, their movements deft and smooth.

“I’ll grant you this, Dr. Mitchell,” Scott whispers into her ear, “you certainly do have moves.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Moir,” she replies as she plants a kiss on his neck. Things start to get a bit too heated for the dance floor, so they return to their seats, placing an order for food.

“So, Scott was telling us that your mother is coming to visit,” Paul says after a round of drinks is delivered.

“Yes,” Shannon replies stiffly. “She’s due at the end of the month.”

“Has it been a while since you’ve seen her?” Sarah asks, completely unaware of the minefield she’s leading them into.

“About three years,” she says as she takes a sip of water, glancing at Scott. “Our relationship is… complicated.”

“Say no more,” Meg says as she raises her glass. “I think we all have problems with our parents at some point in time.”

Shannon glances down, letting out a hollow laugh. “You have no idea.”

Scott watches her through the remainder of dinner, not liking the tension building up between her shoulders. Later that night he’s sitting with her in her living room, watching sportscenter. He glances at her a few times, wondering if he should ask, but concerned about the response he might get.

“I swear to God, if you don’t stop giving me the side-eye I’m going to make you sleep on the couch.”

“Then answer me one question and I’ll let it drop.”

She glances over, looking at him expectantly. “Only one.”

“What happened between you and your mom three years ago?”

“That’s a very long story.” She sighs, setting down her tablet. “How about I tell you about the last time we saw each other instead?”

Scott quirks his eyebrows and nods.  
"Alright, Scotty boy, I'm going to tell you about my mama."  
He'd be lying if he said her weren't excited. He runs and grabs two beers and returns to the couch with baited breath.  
"My mother is the Attorney General of Georgia. Having lived in Michigan, is it safe to assume you know what that means?"  
"Yes, she's like the head lawyer for the state. The head bitch in charge. The one calling the shots. The..."  
"The woman who divorced my father because he disagreed with her over some legislation. The woman who remarried a man who works in big tobacco, who is proudly descended from slave owners. The woman who came to my medical school graduation, but spent the entire time outside on the phone and left after she'd had a photo op with me and several other students."  
She releases this rant with all the pent-up venom of a bitter childhood and adolescence.  
“She has turned condescension and derision into an art form. She has eaten grown men for breakfast and turned around and smiled for a picture and played nice. It’s also worth noting that she intends to run for senate once one of those old codgers die.”  
Scott takes this in, wondering what event caused such animosity that she has refused to return to Atlanta. “So was the graduation the thing that sent you over the edge?”  
Shannon glances at him and sighs, shaking her head. “Actually, no. It wasn’t even something she did. It was something I did. But no joke, I really can’t get into it right now. Sometime though, okay?”  
“With a bottle of wine, right?”  
“Full bottle.”  
Scott nods, settling in, but not a fan of the vague sense of foreboding he’s got.

.::.::.::.

Aimée returns only two weeks before Tessa’s departure. It is a busy day, for the nearby villages are all collecting at Saint Augustine Secondary School to celebrate it’s grand opening for the students. Everything is complete, from the computer lab to the playground, to the blasted goat fence. Victoria, who has driven up from Kampala for the weekend to celebrate and to see Aimée, is helping Tessa set up the chairs outside in the school courtyard. Sister Rosa and Pastor George will be conducting the ceremony with most of the students and their families present.

After set up is finished, they walk back to headquarters to change over for the ceremony. Tessa is wearing the only dress she has, one of the yoga dresses that came in her LuLuLemon swagbag that she shoved in her pack before departing. She didn’t even know she had it, but in a desperate attempt to find something that hasn’t been turned brown, dusty red, or grey while being out here, she found the dress. Glancing over at Victoria, she still feels underdressed, as many people are showing up to this ceremony wearing the best of what they have.

“Stop feeling self-conscious,” Victoria tuts as she pulls Tessa’s hair back into a French braid. “I live here, of course I have one or two cute things to wear. And if I thought you were even remotely close to my size, I’d have brought you something.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tessa replies. “When is Aimée supposed to arrive? I thought she was getting here this morning.”

“In a bit,” Victoria replies quietly. “I think Henri wanted to have lunch with her, just the two of them, before they got here.”

Tessa remains quiet as she feels Victoria’s long fingers comb through her hair. Finally her curiosity gets the better of her. “Why didn’t you two work out?”

It takes a few moments for Victoria to respond, making Tessa think that perhaps she overstepped. But then she gets an answer.

“He’ll say it’s because he only had a deep sense of affection for me, but not love.” Victoria’s voice is quiet, like she’s revealing a long buried secret. “But in reality, he was just afraid. Sure he got his heart broken, but we all have. Sometimes you meet someone that is worth the risk of feeling that pain all over again. For some odd reason, I wasn’t that person for him… It’s okay though, we work well as friends.”

Tessa weighs her words, thinking about the strange turn of events. One of her biggest fears is saying those exact words about her and Scott in a couple years. Then she thinks about how she wasn’t worth the risk to Scott, and how Victoria wasn’t worth the risk to Henri. Suddenly after many weeks, she’s mad again, mad at all the people who are too afraid to put it all on the line, but at Scott and Henri especially.

Never mind that she’s been that person too, never mind that she has also been too afraid to let go and run with how she really feels. Right now she’s filled with indignation against those who have great people sitting in front of them and they ruin it because they’re afraid. Misguided, yes, but she might also be feeling a little residual guilt over the kiss.

She turns once Victoria is done and looks at her for a long moment. “I think you’re worth it.”

Victoria gives her the widest smile Tessa’s ever seen and pulls her close, squeezing her tightly. “Too bad we’re not lesbians. We’d be so hot together.”

Tessa laughs then, her loud booming laugh, and God, does it feel good. They dissolve into laughter, stopping for moments, only to start laughing again. Tears in their eyes, sides aching and faces red, it is at this moment that Aimée finds them.

“What is this! My best girl laughing! And Victoria, how good it is to see you again,” Aimée flies into the room wrapping them into a tornado of joy and hugs. They move outside where there is more space and explain why they were laughing so hard.

“Hey, I called dibs like a year ago on Tessa if she ever decides to experiment,” Aimée says with a impish smile. “Trust me, you will not regret it.”

“Duly noted,” Tessa says with an eyeroll. “It’s so good to see you! We’ve missed you around here.”

“It’s good to see you too! Look at your hair! It’s so much lighter,” Aimée comments as she pulls at Tessa’s long braid. “Who knew you had such a pretty color hiding underneath all that dye?”

“Didn’t you have to dye it for competition and stuff?” Victoria asks as she peers closer at Tessa’s hair. “It is a lovely. What is this, chestnut?”

“I dunno, lighter? Look at all the copper. Who knows, tawny bro—“

Tessa pulls their hands away, shaking her head. “Guys, as much as I’d love to debate whatever color my hair has turned into, I’m pretty sure it’s time to head over to the school.”

A half hour later, all three ladies are sitting in a row, watching as Sister Rosa shares the story behind the Saint Augustine Secondary School. Henri is beside Aimée, while Tuba and Isaiah are with Tessa. She couldn’t help but smile when her two young men appeared, wearing dress shirts and ties. Isaiah even removed the black and white beanie Hailey knitted for him. It resembles a panda bear, with two little ears on top. He’s been wearing it non-stop… for two weeks. Sister Rosa must have prayed for divine intervention to get him to take it off.

“No, she promised me a coke,” Isaiah states when Victoria asks about his panda hat. “She said that Tessa and Aimée are going to spend the night before you leave, right?”

He looks up at Tessa with his great big eyes and his warm smile and she feels her heart go thump-thump. So much for remaining a stone cold fox. This little boy has her wrapped around his finger.

“Yes, that’s right,” she replies as she swings an arm around his shoulders. “Tuba told me he wanted to show us your hideout when we come.”

His face lights up as he nods with enthusiasm. “Oh yes! And and and we can take you on the trail to the river! And the big climb- climbing tree! And and…”

“Slow down, Isaiah,” she whispers as she pulls him into her lap. When he gets too excited he starts to stutter. It’s part of the reason he stays quiet all the time. But he’s gotten much better over the summer. She’s sure it’ll be gone by the time he starts school the next year.

“I’m sad I’m going to miss it,” Victoria frowns. “Make sure you take good care of them, okay?”

Isaiah nods solemnly. “I will. Uncle Michael is still here. He’ll make his special bread for you!”

“I look forward to it,” Tessa smiles. She’s only met Michael once. He’s a tall man, quiet and respectful. She happened to look him up online that one day she was in town with Henri. Everyone was right, having commanded forces in Somalia, South Sudan, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, he’s an impressive man. Impressive, but also dangerous.

Then again, every other person here is dangerous in some way, shape, or form.

There is a grand meal hosted by the families in the courtyard. All the volunteers and workers collect their plates and spread out, wanting to enjoy home cooked food and the families they’ve been working to support. Tessa sits back and one moment and takes it all in, the food, the people, the music. She hopes in a couple years time, to see the same thing only in a different location, but with just as good results.

Sister Rosa and the boys bid Tessa goodnight around ten, promising to meet up later in the week as they are taking her and Aimée to meet some family in a village nearly 100 kilometers away. It’s a proposed site for the resource center due to its proximity to neighboring villages.

The celebrations continue into the wee hours of the morning, with plenty of dancing and eating and drinking, even. Tessa starts to grow tired around two, longing for her bed. She searches for Victoria first but finds Aimée instead, playing a local card game with a bunch of the women. Agreeing to meet up in five minutes, Tessa continues to search around, going inside to walk through the school to the outhouse in hopes of finding Victoria. Instead, she finds Henri, who looks a little put out.

“What did you say to her?” Henri spits out, fuming. “What did you say to Victoria?”

“Excuse me?” Tessa takes a step back, confused and tired. “What are you talking about?”

“Victoria just told me that we should take a break from each other for a while. She thinks our relationship is toxic.”

Eyebrows darting upwards, Tessa shakes her head. “I don’t know why she said that; though I think she’s got a point.”

“Where do you come off, interfering in our relationship? You think she’s right? You know nothing about us.” He says tightly, his voice firm.

“I know the way she looks at you,” Tessa replies, equally irritated. “I know that she is still in love with you. And I know that you are well aware of that fact. If you really cared about her, like you say you do, you’d let her go so she would stop holding out hope that one day you’d stop being a coward and go for it.”

She covers her mouth abruptly and shuts her eyes, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. She keeps them pressed tightly, trying to forget the look of shock and hurt on his face.

“I didn’t mean that,” she whispers. She leans against the wall focusing her gaze on the floor in front of them. Henri turns and walks halfway down the corridor before walking back, clearly angry.

“Victoria is my best friend,” he grits out. “We have been through crazy shit together and when we crossed that line, we were both aware of what we were doing. When I pulled back, I told her it would be best for her to go home, but she chose to stay. She chose this… But suddenly, two years later, she’s changed her mind. Because of you she won’t even talk to me.”

Tessa shakes her head. “I had no part in that. Maybe she’s finally aware of the fact that she can’t move forward with you still in her life.”

“Stop! Stop… imposing your situation with Scott on me and Victoria. We are nothing like you.” He takes a step back sighing. “Victoria will be fine. She’s been fine for a while now. She will meet someone who treats her right and loves her with all he’s got. But I am not that man. Got it?”

Mouth clamped shut so she doesn’t say anything else she’ll regret, Tessa nods once.

“And I’d really appreciate it if you’d stop projecting your anger towards Scott onto me.” He takes a couple steps closer until he’s in her space, but not quite touching.

“We aren’t the same man, Tessa.” His voice is deep and low and makes goose bumps spread on her skin. He reaches out and runs his index finger softly along her cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You’d do well to remember that.”

He turns and walks away again, not stopping this time. Tessa bangs the back of her head lightly on the wall behind her, cursing her own impetuousness.

“Tessa?” Aimée ducks her head inside, frowning. “You ready?”

Pushing off from the wall, Tessa walks to the other Scotch-Belgian in her life, hoping the last of their time together is much less dramatic than their time apart.

.::.

It’s midnight as Scott stretches out in his bed, glancing at the empty spot beside him and frowns. He was at the fire station all and then he dropped by Shannon's for a quick meal. Shannon is still at her place, cleaning everything in preparation for her mother’s visit. Scott doesn’t fully understand what’s going on, but he does know that Shannon is not a fun person to be around right now. She nearly bit off his head when he suggested that she just cater the lunch.

“My mother is very particular about the food she eats.”

“Yes, I get this, but we both know you are a so-so cook at best. Do you really want to subject her to your cooking?” It was then that Scott learned that Shannon’s face could actually get as red as her hair.

“Out! Get out. So help me God! You are the absolute worst,” she yells as she points to the front door. “Are you kidding me right now?”

And that is why Scott is now spending his night alone. Instead of falling asleep, he decides to pull up a cooking website that specializes in southern cooking. He jots down a list of ingredients that he’ll need to pick up the next morning, hoping the local grocer will have everything he needs.

The following morning, he collects the items and returns home, ready to work. By the time late afternoon, every countertop is loaded down with food. He calls Shannon around four asking her over. She spits fire for a few minutes, but concedes all the same.

“What is all this?” She exclaims when she enters. “How did you even…”

Scott pulls her hands away from a casserole dish. “Hold on, let me show you what we have. There’s collard greens, squash casserole, candied yams, fried okra, black eyed peas, green beans, fried chicken and…” Scott glances around, feeling like he’s forgetting something. He glances at the oven and runs around the island, pulls open the oven as smoke wafts out.

“I can’t remember what this was supposed to be. But I made this too,” Scott says as he looks up at Shannon, tears tracking down her face.

“Woah woah woah. What’s wrong, babe?” Scott walks toward her and wraps her in his arms. “What’s wrong?”

A series of whale noises and squeaks get muffled into his chest. Eventually she quiets down and pulls away, giving him a chance to understand what she’s saying. “No one… has ever done… something this nice for me before.”

“Aw, Shannon, hey,” she burrows her head into his chest, squeezing him tighter. “Hey, it wasn’t a big deal, I swear. I just made some food. I’m sorry I stuck my foot in my mouth, it wasn’t very kind.”

“It was true though,” she whispers, placing a damp kiss on his neck. She pulls away again, still wiping the tears from her face. “I’m not exaggerating, Scott. No one has ever done something this nice before.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he smirks as he uses his apron to wipe away the rest of her tears.

“You don’t know the kind of home I grew up in, Scott,” she shakes her head, frowning.

“That’s probably,” he says softly as he hands her a full bottle of wine, “because you haven’t told me yet.”

They fill their plates with foot and take their glasses to his dining table and settle in for a long conversation. By the end, Scott has a very thorough understanding of the woman who runs the law in Georgia, and hopes she isn’t as intimidating as she sounds.

“By the time I got to college, I went… absolutely crazy. I mean… I barely remember my first year of school. Lot’s of partying, lots of alcohol, lots of drugs, it was insane.”

“Wait what?”

“Yup, good times,” she holds up her wine glass, eyes slightly glazed over. “I was about to flunk out of school when my dad flew in to visit. He took one look at me and sent me away for the summer. And that was when I met Stuart.”

“What, so your ex is who set you on the straight and narrow?”

“No,” she frowns. “He was my escape from… from everything else.”

“So your mom is controlling and your brothers are over achieving assholes, but you still love them, right?”

“I love my brothers, but my mother? Not so sure.”

“You can’t mean that,” Scott frowns at the way she worries her napkin. Reaching out, he twines their fingers, kissing the back of her hand. “Come on. I made pie too.”

“What kind?”

“Pecan and key lime.”

“You’re sexy when you talk dirty to me,” Shannon shoots back as she gives him a playful grin.

“Would you like some whip cream with your… pie?”

“Hold the pie,” she says as she grabs the can of whip cream. “Come with me.”

Scott at least has the sense to ensure the stove is off before following her into the bedroom where they proceed to use up most of the whip cream.

“Think of this moment next week, when we’re sitting around the table and pie is being served,” Scott whispers as he licks the whip cream slowly off her skin.

If only pie was the all thing they needed to get the through the visit.

.::.

With less than four days left, Tessa has been doing her rounds, bidding goodbye to friends and thanking all the locals she’s been working with over the past four months. She receives countless gifts that are far too generous and has only but gratitude and hugs to give in return. Tessa is so tired of saying goodbye at the end of it; she can barely summon the strength to go to Sister Rosa’s that evening for dinner. Before she and Aimée leave for their overnight stay, Tessa ducks inside Henri’s office to borrow his satellite phone as cell service is poor for international calls. Henri’s got an old vinyl of Elvis playing softly and his tea is still steaming on his desk, so she knows he isn’t far.

Leaning against his desk, she dials her home number, hoping someone is home. The last time she spoke with her mom, she said that Casey was driving everyone insane over waiting for the baby, and that it was looking like it may come a little early. This is distressing on various levels, mainly because the 28 hours of travel indicate that Tessa will not actually be home for another couple days and might miss the delivery.

When she gets the answering machine, Tessa frowns, but keeps her voice light as she leaves her message:

“Hey guys! It's, Tessa. I just wanted to confirm my arrival for the 27th of September at..." she glances at her ticket. "At 8 am. Wow. That means I will have been traveling for almost 28 hours! I cannot wait to see you both, tell Casey that his child cannot be born until I get there. Because he can totally control things like that, obviously. And... I don't know, I'm really happy to be coming home. It's been a long four months. A great four months, but, long. All I can think about is taking a bath and chocolate milk. Oh! Can you bring me some chocolate milk? And maybe a chocolate muffin? Wait no — yeah a muffin. An oatmeal cookie? I don't know. Sorry, I'm rambling. Love you!"  
She tries her mom’s cell as well, but gets voicemail again. She leaves another message hoping there’s a plausible excuse for her mom to not answer her cell, like she’s in a meeting with a client, or she’s vacuuming… Something.

“What’s with the frown?” Henri asks as he enters his office. “You should be on cloud nine. This time tomorrow, you’ll be at the airport, waiting to go home and see your family and watch hockey and eat chocolate and drink wine.”

Tessa tosses the sat phone at him, gracing him with a fake smile. “Yes, because that’s all that matters in life.”

“Wow, didn’t mean to upset you, what’s wrong?” Henri frowns as he takes a seat at his desk.

“I have the suspicion that I’m about to become an aunt and that I’m missing it.”

“Why because no one picked up the phone when you called?”

Tessa nods, huffing. “My mom almost always picks up her cell. It’s my dad who tends to leave his phone places. His jacket. His office. His brief case. I once found it sitting on the hood of the grill outside after we spent three hours looking for it. “

Henri laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “You can try again if you’d like.”

Tessa shakes her head. “It’s fine. I’ll call from the airport tomorrow to remind them again.”

Nodding, Henri sets the phone on his desk and crosses his arms, watching her for a moment. “Listen, about the other day, I just wanted to say that —“

“Tess! You ready? Jimmy is here!” Aimée calls out before she strolls into the office. “I hope that dessert cake you bought in town tastes better than it looks.”

“The cake with dates in it?” Henri asks, eyebrows quirked. “You know that’s my favorite.”

“Which is why there’s one sitting behind you on your desk,” Tessa replies as she pats his shoulder in passing as Aimée blows him a kiss. “Have a good night, we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sounds good. Take Harbuu with you.”

Tessa whistles quick and fast, summoning Harbuu from her bed in the corner. Twenty-five minutes later, Jimmy drops off the two ladies and Harbuu for their fun-filled overnight stay at Sister Rosa’s.

.::.::.::.

Scott arrives for his shift at the fire station, exhausted and emotionally spent. He spent the last twenty-four hours dealing with the collateral damage of Shannon’s mother visiting and is exhausted. Regardless, he’s got a full shift to complete before freedom. Tessa is due to arrive in a couple hours, but he won’t get to see her until tomorrow at the earliest.

“Scotty boy, what’s up?” Jane says as she swings into the kitchen ready to mainline some coffee.

“Not much. We got any ice cream?”

“Ice cream? This early?” Matt asks as he walks in to fill his mug as well. “What, rough night, Moir?”

“Yeah, you could say that. Shannon’s mom just left.”

“Ah that bad, was it?” asks Jane, sharing a look of commiseration with Matt.

“Let’s just say I don’t expect to receive a Christmas card.”

“Wow, what’d you do?” Matt takes a seat at the table as Scott starts to unload the details of the last couple days.

“Wait wait wait, let me get this straight,” Jane interrupts Scott as the story goes from bad to worse. “She insulted you to your face then berated Shannon for her recent lifestyle choices, right in front of you? Super classy, that broad.”

“I have barely touched the tip,” Scott replies, frowning. “I always thought she was exaggerating when she said her mom was an awful person. But no joke, she was… she was a bitch. Straight up.”

“So what’d you do?”

“Held my tongue as long as I could… Until we got to brunch on the last day and I let her have it.”

“What set you off?”

“She wouldn’t shut up about Shannon’s hair.” Scott states, shaking his head. “I know, ridiculous, but the woman criticized Shannon from the moment she arrived until the moment she left. I finally had enough.”

“Wow,” Matt replies, twisting his mug. “I guess this is a bad time to mention that I absolutely love my mother-in-law?”

Scott frowns, tossing a rag at him. “What’s worse, is that Shannon won’t even talk to me right now. She got all bent out of shape, it was a mess.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it Scotty —“

A tone sounds just then, indicating that they have a call. And what a call it is.

Almost twenty-four hours later, Scott stows his gear in his locker and makes his way upstairs to the kitchen, about ready to collapse on his feet. The kitchen is empty, which is strange for coming off a call as horrendous as that, but it doesn't register until after he's grabbed a couple bananas and a cup of coffee. Concerned, he starts walking to the rec room, seeing a bunch of the guys piled inside, watching TV.

Before he can see what they’re watching, Matt emerges from the Captain's office, face pale, eyes shadowed and glassy. He waves Scott over, keeping the door open as Scott enters, then takes a seat in front of the Captain's desk. Scott can only imagine this had to do with a risky ploy earlier in which he went off radio for a bit, and immediately starts on the offense.

"Look, Cap. I uh just wanted to say —"

"Scotty, this ain't about that, kid." Captain interrupts, frowning. "Have you checked your phone, oh... I dunno. In the past 12 hours?"

Scott shakes his head, confused. "Nah, it was low so I left it charging here when we rotated out for a break. I figured if there was an emergency, you'd get in touch with me over the radio."

"You're right. Except for the fact that you went offline for a bit," his tone his sharp and stern, causing Scott to look down in shame. "But that's not what this is about. Listen, I got some news, and I want to tell you now and then Matt's going to drive you home."

Scott's head jerks up at Matt, perturbed. "What's wrong? Is my family okay? What's wrong? Anybody hurt?"

"They're fine. They're... all fine. This has to do with Tessa."

Leaning back in his seat, Scott frowns, confused. "Tessa? She was supposed to get back yesterday. I'm heading over there right now."

"That's just it, Scott." The Captain glances at Matt then back to Scott. "She's missing. They think she and another girl where abducted a couple days ago."

.::.::.::.


	18. 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All he knows is that if her heart stopped beating, his would too.

.::.::.::.

Scott stows his gear in his locker and makes his way upstairs to the kitchen, about ready to collapse on his feet. The kitchen is empty, which is strange for coming off a call as horrendous as that, but it doesn’t register until after he’s grabbed a couple bananas and a cup of coffee. Concerned, he starts walking to the rec room, seeing a bunch of the guys piled inside, watching TV.

Before he can see what they’re watching, Matt emerges from the Captain’s office, face pale, eyes shadowed and glassy. He waves Scott over, keeping the door open as Scott enters, then takes a seat in front of the Captain’s desk. Scott can only imagine this had to do with a risky ploy earlier in which he went off radio for a bit, and immediately starts on the offense.

"Look, Cap. I uh just wanted to say —"

"Scotty, this ain’t about that, kid." Captain interrupts, frowning. "Have you checked your phone, oh… I dunno. In the past 12 hours?"

Scott shakes his head, confused. “Nah, it was low so I left it charging here when we rotated out for a break. I figured if there was an emergency, you’d get in touch with me over the radio.”

"You’re right. Except for the fact that you went offline for a bit," his tone his sharp and stern, causing Scott to look down in shame. "But that’s not what this is about. Listen, I got some news, and I want to tell you now and then Matt’s going to drive you home."

Scott’s head jerks up at Matt, perturbed. “What’s wrong? Is my family okay? What’s wrong? Anybody hurt?”

"They’re fine. They’re… all fine. This has to do with Tessa."

Leaning back in his seat, Scott frowns, confused. “Tessa? She was supposed to get back yesterday. I’m heading over there right now.”

"That’s just it, Scott." The Captain glances at Matt then back to Scott. "She’s missing. They think she and another girl where abducted a couple days ago."

Scott sits there for a solid minute, watching as the Captain talks, but he can’t hear a word. It’s all slow motion and all he can hear is his heartbeat, and the sound of her laugh, of her breathing next to him in her tiny bed in London. This can’t be real. No. He’s joking.

"Are you joking, right now? Because with all due respect, that’s not funny, you sonovabitch."

The Captain doesn’t even react, just exchanges a glance with Matt who has moved his chair closer to Scott. Matt reaches out, but Scott throws him off, standing quickly.

"Scott, slow down," Matt says cautiously. "I’m gonna take you home. Your mom called the station right before we got back, and —"

Scott shakes his head, backing away. This isn’t real. None of this is real.

"No. Nope. I don’t… There’s been a mistake." Scott throws the door open and comes barreling down the hall, stoping briefly when he hears Tessa’s name coming from the TV room. He pokes his head inside and sees everyone standing around, watching the news coverage. On the screen is Tessa, a recent picture from what he can tell, with the label ‘missing olympian.’

"Scott —" Matt calls out as several others turn to face him, looks of surprise and sympathy on their faces. Turning quickly, Scott flys down the stairs, slamming the door open as he walks to his truck. Just before he reaches the handle Matt grabs his arm and shoves him aside, motioning for him to get in the passenger seat. Scott tosses his keys at him as they climb inside and head toward his house.

They ride to his parent’s home in complete silence, not even bothering with the heater even though it’s chilly. When Matt pulls up, Scott is out of the truck before Matt can throw the truck into park. He runs inside the house, plowing through the door, yelling frantically.

"What do they mean she’s missing? What the fuck does that mean?" Scott calls immediately, stomping into the foyer. "Missing!? I don’t… What?"

Scott’s dad emerges from the kitchen looking red eyed and grief-stricken. He reaches out to Scott, but Scott backs away, shaking his head. Scott’s voice gets stern and low as he grits out: “Explain it to me. What. Happened?”

Strangely enough, it’s his mom who is calm at the moment. She walks out of the kitchen and grabs Scott’s hand, pulling him with her.

"We got a call late last night from Tessa’s mom, she said that she got a call from the Canadian Embassy in Uganda, saying that Tessa could not be located at this time. Kate called a point of contact, a man named Henri Toussaint, who said that Tessa and his sister Aimée went to have dinner three nights ago with some friends and were going to spend the night. When a car was sent to pick them up, it was discovered that two people had been killed and that Tessa and Aimée weren’t there. Henri believes that they escaped, but the Embassy claims that they were abducted."

"Why does he think they escaped?"

"Because his dog was with them. If they were abducted, his dog would have been killed as well."

"A lot of good that damn dog did," Scott croaks, his throat closing up. His initial adrenaline rush is starting to fade and in it’s place is a booming headache. "What’s being done? Who’s looking for her?"

His mom clams up, exchanging a glance with his dad. “There’s a bunch of the people she works with that are out looking, but… there was a bad storm, any trail they had isn’t there anymore.”

"I don’t… I don’t understand," his voice breaks, and he’s not sure if it’s because he hasn’t slept in over 24 hours and he’s exhausted, but he feels like there are too many thoughts and feelings going on at one time. Too much. He backs away from his parents without speaking and walks out to the backyard.

Instead of stopping, he keeps walking. He walks through seven neighbor’s backyards, walks over the creek bed that overflows in the spring. He walks past a couple pastures, past the tallest tree in the flattest field.

The whole time, his mind is blank.

.::.::.::.

Three days previous

The ride to Sister Rosa’s takes almost thirty minutes, but as with all others, it’s quite bumpy. They travel over the ridge line and down the long winding road to the large ancestral home of Michael and Sister Rosa. Tuba and Isaiah are running around outside, chasing a bright, colorful kite. Tessa feels her heart squeeze uncomfortably at the thought of this being the last time she sees them for several months.

"Okay, Ms. Tessa," says Jimmy as he throws the van into park. "I will be here at eleven am to pick you both up. When does your flight leave again?"

"One fifteen in the morning. It’ll give us plenty of time to grab my stuff and travel down to Entebbe."

"Sounds good. Are you keeping Harbuu with you this evening?"

"We’d better. Don’t want to give Henri something else to stomp about," Aimée replies as she sends Harbuu in the yard to play with the boys. "Bye Jimmy!"

"Bye ladies, have a good evening."

Tessa turns and threads her arm through Aimée’s, walking side by side as they weave through the sun-warmed linen hanging on the line to head inside. The boys run up and greet them cheerfully, both absolutely thrilled to be having a sleepover.

"And you can use my pillow, Tessa!" Isaiah says as he wraps his little hand around hers.

"That’s very kind of you!" Tessa replies just as enthusiastically as Sister Rosa holds open the porch door. Sister Rosa gives each woman a kiss on the cheek and asks them to sit at the table. The boys return to playing outside, running around with Harbuu who is enamored with the tail of the kite.

Tea is served as they discuss the previous week’s success with arranging another goat exchange and agreement over the potential site for the community center, just outside Kitgun. Tessa is beyond excited to share all the news with the members of the community in Canada, those who have been working relentlessly at home to support her work here on the ground.

Eventually it’s dinner time and every single moment gets cemented in Tessa’s mind: the way Isaiah climbs into Aimée’s lap, the delicious food that now tastes like home, Sister Rosa’s weathered hands and gentle laugh as Tuba tells a story about his football game that morning. Michael with his quiet timbre telling of a story when he and Rosa were children. Feeling warm and content, Tessa settles into her seat as their voices wrap around her body, into her ears, her brain, her heart.

She feels a sticky hand reach over and grab hers, little tiny fingers picking at hers as their owner chomps on a piece of the homemade bread Michael made. Tuba gives her his crooked, toothless smile and takes another bite, and she feels more that knows, that this is where she will leave her heart. With these boys and this woman, they can do with it as they please. Till it into the earth, lump it with the mud that builds the walls of homes, weave it with the fabric of their lives.

"Boys, take the scraps out to Timo," Michael says as the meal comes to a close. "We are going to clean up."

"For dessert!?" Isaiah has a notorious sweet tooth.

Sister Rosa raises an eyebrow and shares a subtle smile with Tessa. “Maybe. You will not know unless you finish your chores!”

Isaiah is out of his seat first, collecting the plates as Tuba hops over to the counter to find the bowl used for scraps that they take to their pot-bellied pig, Timo. Within seconds they are outside, making a ruckus and running around with unconfined enthusiasm. Tessa and Aimée collect the rest of the dinnerware and bring it over to the sink. Aimée goes outside to the well to draw up some water as Sister Rosa unwraps the cake Tessa purchased while she was in town.

The water is set to boil while the boys fly in, clambering in with the gusto of a herd of impala.

"Cake! Yesssss. I love this kind!" Tuba hands Isaiah a fork. Dessert is eaten with the same delight as dinner, happy bellies and happy hearts.

As they finish their meal, the boys continue to remain full of energy as they ‘help’ with the dishes. Aimée takes the boys outback with Harbuu to run around and exhaust them before bed. Tessa starts washing the dishes with Michael as Sister Rosa goes to collect the clothes and sheets on the line. Tessa turns on the their battery powered tape player, selecting a tape she brought with her from home: Hall and Oates, The Greatest Hits. In her humble opinion, no home is complete without it.

As the familiar beat of Make My Dreams Come True plays, she starts dancing around the kitchen, grinning as Michael rolls his eyes at her playfulness. To her eternal delight, this imposing man starts bopping his head around, humming along to the music, secretly making Tessa quite pleased with herself.

Harbuu trots inside briefly to lean against Tessa’s leg, and then laps some water from a bowl nearby. Warm air flows in through the window, bringing the sweet dirt smell of the crops growing nearby.

She glances through the window when she hears the sound of a truck rattling up the bumpy road. What she sees stops her movements as time seems to slow.

When she looks back on this time, she will only see snapshots:

Men piling out of a truck, holding weapons of all sorts.

Sister Rosa standing her ground, shaking her head and pointing the direction from which they came.

Michael, shoving a small,weathered leatherbound notebook in her hands, pointing to the boys, pushing her to the back door.

The splatter of blood against colorful dresses as Sister Rosa’s body falls to the ground, life still oozing out of her neck with every lagging beat of her heart.

And then, it speeds up in what feels like hypermode. She collects her and Aimée’s packs, grabs the bag of food they brought with them and sprints to the back pasture. The boys and Harbuu stop their game when they see her charging full speed ahead.

She tosses Aimée her bag and looks at the boys. “Take us to your hiding spot. The one Michael made for you.”

"Tessa, what’s going on?" Aimée frowns as she pulls her bag around her shoulders and starts to jog. "Where’s Sister Rosa and Michael?"

"Men came for Michael. To take him back…" she replies simply. "It’s time to run, boys. Run as fast as you can."

.::.

"Drink this, Kid. It’ll set you to rights in no time," Tom sets down a mug full of a strange broth, tightening a blanket around Scott’s shoulders. Tom watches an expressionless Scott for a few minutes, concerned for his friend.

"How long were you sitting out there?" Tom asks, frowning as Scott sips slowly. Shrugging, Scott keeps his gaze fixed on the table, mute. Tom stares at him for a moment then nods knowingly as he settles in his chair.

Glancing at the TV behind Scott, Tom’s eyebrows dart upwards when he sees a picture of Scott and Tessa on the late-night news. Tom shuts off the TV, very much aware of the problem. He goes to his bedroom and grabs a pillow and a blanket, placing them on the couch.

"Scott, here’s some blankets. I think you should rest here tonight, K? You look dead on your feet."

Scott blinks hard and glances back at Tom, nodding once. Tom gets a glass of water for him and Scott then walks up behind Scott, hesitating. Finally, he sets his hand on Scott’s shoulder and squeezes once. “I’m heading to bed. Come get me if you need anything.”

When Tom wakes in the morning, the blanket and pillow remain on the sofa, untouched. The table is bare, no evidence of Scott whatsoever.

.::.

In the past few days, Tessa feels like she’s seen it all. After running from Sister Rosa’s, they crammed into a small pit covered by roots and banana leaves and waited in silence for over an hour. They could hear foot steps and deep voices nearby. Breaths were held, hearts beating quickly.

Once they knew they were in the clear, they had the boys take them on the trail to the river, away from the road, away from town. By then nightfall had long since set, and reality was setting in. After whispered debating and much cursing, Tessa and Aimée decided they would take the boys to the safety of their Aunt Okoma.

This was the woman they’d all just visited over a week ago in hopes of planting the resource center near her village outside Kitgum. It’s over 100 kilometers away by road. But they can’t go along the road in fear of the men in the truck finding them. Aimée guesses it’ll be around 115 km, but the terrain isn’t too difficult. Their biggest concerns for safety will be man and wildlife.

Early morning on day three, Tessa sits with Aimée, peering at the map to determine the course. Though Aimée has asked several times, Tessa still hasn’t explained what happened to Sister Rosa other than say she’s dead. It’s too hard.

Not only that, Tessa’s barely slept since they left. When they settle down for the night, her mind won’t shut off. She’s too afraid to fall asleep, too afraid of the sounds in the dark, too afraid of the man with jaundiced eyes holding the knife that slit open Sister Rosa’s throat.

Between them, Tessa and Aimée have several items of benefit: deet, sunscreen, flashlights John’s knife, a map, a camera, and most importantly Scott’s survival kit. The iodine tabs alone have been a lifesaver as they ran out of water the previous day and had to take the risk of drinking river water. They’ve been okay for food, but with four people, it’s quickly diminishing.

Things they lack: a freaking cell-phone. That had been a point of contention the first night, as Tessa had been using Aimée’s phone while she was in Rwanda and used up all the credits a couple days prior. Tessa was planning to refill it before she left. Aimée didn’t talk to her for most the first day she was so angry. They could have easily gotten out of this pickle if her cell phone could call out.

At least Harbuu isn’t mad at her.

Thanks to Aimée, the only one who has navigational skills, they haven’t gotten lost. Travel isn’t easy as the boys can only walk so far before they tire out. Aimée and Tessa take turns carrying Isaiah when he grows tired, but it’s Tuba Tessa worries about. He refuses to have any help and hasn’t said much over the past two days.

She watches him now as he sits against the tree, petting Harbuu. He was born in an internally displaced persons camp outside Gulu. He still remembers what it was like, living in mud huts surrounded by abject poverty. Tessa doesn’t think they will be facing this situation in the future, but she knows the boys need to be safe, and their only living relative can provide them with that.

Just before Michael ran outside with a loaded pistol and certain death, he handed her an old notebook and told her to barter with it in case they were captured. He said it contained a list of corrupt men in power who had committed great atrocities. He admitted to aiding and abetting many of these acts out of concern for the welfare of his family. If Tessa makes it, she is to give it to an American soldier, someone Michaels served with many times, the only man he trusted. And then she swore to Michael that she would get the boys to safety.

No matter what.

Soon, they start walking again, but Isaiah is crabby and it’s hard not to grow irritable in the humidity with hungry bellies. In order to try to lighten the mood, she decides to tell a story.

"What kind of story?" asks Isaiah from where he sits on her shoulders.

"I dunno, what kind do you want to hear?"

Isaiah thinks for a second then looks down at Aimée. “Aimée, what do you want to know about?”

Aimée, who’s been as quiet as Tuba this morning, glances up at Isaiah and tugs his foot. “I want to hear a story about… an ice skating princess.”

"What is an ice skating princess?" Tuba asks, curious. Tessa doesn’t talk much about her other life, finding that it’s hard too to explain to people who don’t know what cold feels like. She thinks for a moment then starts her story.

"You know when we get a coke and it’s really cold? And we get ice sometimes? Imagine a big field covered with the ice and imagine the air gets really cold, like a coke can."

"Cold as a coke can? No way. That is impossible," Tuba states. "How can one place be so cold?"

"It’s because where I come from in the North, it’s very cold. And white."

"White like you?"

Aimée and Tessa laugh at Isaiah’s innocent question.

"Yes. A lot of pale skinned people, but we also get snow and ice."

Thus begins a twenty minute explanation of snow and ice until the boys understand what she means. Then she describes the type of dancing she and Scott do.

"Wait, you do it with a boy?" Tuba asks, curious. "Is he nice?"

Tessa glances at Aimée, biting her lip. “Yes. He has his moments.”

"Can you dance for us?" Isaiah asks as Tuba claps, suddenly forgetting their expedition. Aimée grins at Tessa who starts shaking her head.

"How about I show you tonight, before bedtime?"

"Okay, then… then tell us about being an ice princess."

So, that is how she tells them the story behind every dance she’s ever shared with Scott. It takes a solid day and a half, but she does it. As promised, she dances for them that night, much to the boys’ awe and delight.

.::.

It’s about four in the morning when Scott gets home, his house empty. This is alarming as he’s not sure where Norma Jean is. He finds a note on his counter that informs him Shannon stopped by and picked her up yesterday. Meh, he doesn’t care.

He looks around at his empty home and hates everything. He grabs a beer from the fridge, shuts the door, then slides down to the floor, Focusing on his breathing and the beating of his heart in his chest.

As scared as his is for Tessa’s welfare, he knows she is okay. He knows she is alive. He is certain of this because he can feel her. Feel her in his very core. Whatever it is they have, that indescribable connection that they’ve never been able to put a name to, it’s the only thing that is keeping him sane right now.

They’ve always been close in proximity in the past so he never gave it much thought, the actual physical sensation she could provoke in him. But when she was away in London and again in Uganda, he could feel her lack of presence acutely. Not figuratively, but physically. Just like when they couldn’t explain their connection on the ice while in an interview, he still cannot explain this sensation.

All he knows is that if her heart stopped beating, his would too.

Over the past day he’s shut down, not from shock or anything, but because he’s been focusing on his body and how it reacts. He was sitting at Tom’s earlier, calm and quiet, but his heart was racing and his hands were clammy. Why?

No idea. But it soon calmed and so did he.

Now here he sits, quiet and calm. He takes one more swig from his bottle and goes to his room to grab a sweater. He searches for his spare set of keys, unsure what Matt did with his. Then he walks the four miles to his parents home in the chill of an early October morning.

When he gets there, he can see a light on in his parent’s kitchen, but he doesn’t go inside. He climbs inside his truck and drives to his lake property. Once he gets there, he starts looking for trees that need to come down, trees that’ll make good firewood. Trees that’ll keep his family warm. Because right now, he needs something to do other than sit around and wait for news.

He walks the perimeter, finds a tree, then sets to work.

.::.

By day five, things aren’t looking so hot. Rain set in the day before and made the tall grass near the river a challenge to walk through. They haven’t much cover to begin with and the trees aren’t very tall, making them struggle from sun exposure. Not only that, but they ran out of food and had a couple altercations with some of the native wildlife: several snakes, some primates that Tessa has no idea the name of, and some wild dogs. Thank goodness for Harbuu, or the dogs would have been problematic.

Then Tessa gets diarrhea. She doesn’t want to think about how or why, just that she has it and that it won’t go away and that she’s quickly getting dehydrated. They spend most of that day resting, which gives her time to recuperate and allows the boys a chance to revive.

"We’ve covered… I dunno, 67 kilometers," Aimée says quietly as the boys nap against Harbuu. "Here, drink some more water, I don’t like how you look."

"We need to find food," Tessa murmurs, frowning at the last granola bar in her bag. She hands it to Aimée and tries not to make a face as the movement jostles her already angry stomach. She’s already taken all the pepto bismal in the kit and wishing for more. Aimée frowns regardless, watching as Tessa covers her face, shielding it from the daylight.

"Real talk," Aimée says as she slides down the tree, closer to Tessa’s face. "How is there no extraneous hair on your body? My armpits are almost ready to be braided."

Tessa laughs, unprepared. “Don’t make me laugh, it hurts.” Taking a moment to relax her body, she talks again. “I’ve been having all my hair lasered off my body since I was… twelve. The last thing you want, is a giant snapshot of your stubbly armpit or a missed pubic hair poking out from your costume. It tends to take away from the overall aesthetic.”

"Crazy," Aimée whispers. "You’re like the hairless wonder. What other weird things did they make you do?"

"Oh, where to start?" Tessa sighs. "So Scott and I were… we were very good and we skated with the best coaches and the best skaters. The center we trained at was unofficially called The Vault, primarily because privacy and secrecy were imperative in that community. But also because they enforced many strategies and techniques that many would think dangerous or unacceptable."

Aimée scrutinizes Tessa for a few moments, eyebrows drawn together. “Like what?”

"Diets, for one. All the girls were placed on a strict diet. We were weighed frequently and criticised constantly. They fostered an environment in which anorexia was not only a standard but something to strive towards. But after 2010, I’d had it. I still was careful about my weight, but I saw what it was doing to the other skaters, and I knew that eventually I would retire and I didn’t want that type of lifestyle to follow me for the rest of my life."

"That’s awful. How… why did you keep doing it? Putting yourself through all of that?"

Tessa’s quiet for a few moments, thinking. “You know when you’re on a roller coaster and you’re at the top, waiting to go down and the anticipation is so great?”

"Yeah, I’m always about to pee my pants."

"And then you finally let go, and it’s… exhilarating and breathtaking and you feel like you’re flying?"

Aimée nods, watching as Tessa’s face gets a far-away look.

"That’s what skating is like. That’s what skating with Scott is like. Especially when it’s a good skate; when work relentlessly for months and months and then we show the world what we can do. But when we’re on the ice, it’s just us, and we’re unstoppable.”

Silently, Aimée reaches over and grabs Tessa’s hand, finally understanding what Scott did when he severed ties. He didn’t just break her heart. He broke her spirit. Slowly, she’s gotten it back, much like muscle that must get broken down before it’s built up, stronger than it ever was.

Later that afternoon, Tessa feels moderately better, and they resume hiking to get a bit of distance in. That’s when Aimée starts telling her tale of a dragon queen and her family. Tessa is pretty sure it’s a combination of every fantasy story she’s ever read and seen, and it’s magnificent.

.::.

By late afternoon, Scott has assembled a medium sized pile of wood and has taken off his sweater and t-shirt, chopping away. The sound of a footsteps picking over rocks breaks him from his daze. Paul approaches, hands shoved in his pockets, looking pale and grim.

Paul pulls a bottle of water from a deep pocket and tosses it at Scott, who downs it quickly. Remaining silent, they walk down the embankment to the small rocky beach along the lake. They take a seat on a large boulder, tossing rocks into the water.

"How you holding up?" Paul asks finally. Scott shrugs, watching the way the water splashes.

"Your family is real worried about you, man. Everyone is."

"I’ll be fine." Scott replies coarsely. It’s the first time he’s said a word in over a day.

"You sure about that? You don’t look so good."

"That’s because I don’t feel good." Scott states plainly. He hasn’t showered in five days and that’s including coming from the fire station and the call from hell. He doesn’t elaborate, but he doesn’t need to. They sit in silence for a bit longer until Paul brings up another point of contention.

"What are you going to do about Shannon?"

"What do you mean?"

"She called me earlier, saying you’d both had a fight after her mom left and now you won’t even talk to her. Now that… now that Tessa is missing, she doesn’t know what to do, how to comfort you. She doesn’t even know where to find you, because you still haven’t shown her this property."

Scott remains silent, no desire to respond to a third party regarding his relationship with Shannon.

"Listen, I’m in no place to say anything, but you need to have an open conversation with her about where you want your relationship to go. You can’t keep stringing her along if you don’t care for her."

Brow furrowed, Scott glares at Paul, not liking his implication. “We’ve had a rough month, but I know that I love her Paul. I do.”

"Does she know that?"

"Not yet." Scott sighs. "Just because I haven’t said it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there."

"Yeah, but is that enough?"

"What do you mean?" Scott frowns, staring down at the lake bed.

"I think you have a fraction, a tiny fraction of your heart that Tessa still hasn’t touched yet," Paul says as he crosses his arms. "And I think that’s what you give to other women, thinking that somehow, that’s going to be enough. So when things get hard in those relationships, you focus your energy elsewhere."

Scott shakes his head, giving Paul a sour look “You’ve got it wrong.”

"Really?" Paul asks, standing. "Then how is it that Tessa has been declared all but dead, and you’re out here chopping wood like it’s a Saturday morning?"

Scott shrugs, toeing the handle of his axe. “They wouldn’t let me come back to work. Had to do something. Can’t sit at home all day. And for the record,” Scott leans forward, “Tessa is fine.”

"Really, Scott? Do you have some magic GPS device that can sense her every movement?" Paul asks, sarcastic. "You’re unbelievable, you know that?"

"It’s hard to explain, man."

"Right, but you want me to buy that Tessa is fine. Sure, sounds good.”

Not liking his bitter tone, Scott holds out his wrist. “Feel my pulse.”

"What? No," Paul shoves Scott’s arm away.

"Seriously, feel my pulse right now."

Non-plussed, Paul does as he’s ordered. “It’s racing, what’s that prove?”

"I’ve been sitting here for five minutes, plenty of time for it to get under control. For the past… almost five days, my heart has been doing whatever it wants, regardless of my activity."

"And that’s supposed to prove that Tessa is okay?"

Scott shakes his head, groaning in frustration. “You don’t get it. We… I can… I can feel her presence. I can feel it,” Scott presses his closed fist to the center of his chest. “I can feel it, right here. Just like when we would skate, I can feel her.”

Paul stares as Scott swears vehemently over the presence of Tessa in his core. Surprisingly, after a minute, he nods in acceptance. Paul kicks a couple rocks, turning back to the lake.

"You know, when we were younger," Paul starts quietly, "I hated you with every fiber of my being."

Scott’s jaw actually drops at this admission. “What?”

"Back in high school and a bit of college, I hated you."

"Why? That’s…" Scott frowns, then thinks for a moment. "Tessa."

"Yeah, remember that summer after her first surgery and she was home all the time? I think she was single at the time, I don’t remember. It’s awful to say, but I was in heaven. I came by every day. Brought her snacks, kept her distracted over the fact that she was letting you down. Yeah, that was her biggest concern, not necessarily getting better, but that she was letting you down."

"Paul —"

"So one day, we were sitting on her back porch, she’d just transitioned to the crutches and we were celebrating," Paul burrows his hands in his jacket, frowning. "I’d been working up the courage for nearly a week to see if maybe, just maybe, she’d go on a date with me. But then you texted her. It was something completely innocuous, like traffic sucks or something. But she smiled. She smiled the smile that she only gives you. She looked up at me and asked if it was weird to feel ‘connected’ to someone.” Paul glances up at Scott, narrowing his eyes.

"I didn’t know what she meant, but she wanted to know if I could feel other people, if it was normal.” Paul lets out a sad smile. “I laughed her off, because I was dumb and immature and I had no idea what she was talking about. I thought it was stupid, one of those things she watched in an old movie. But then after watching you two struggle for years… I guess not, eh?”

"Later, when you guys had started the therapy, she’d come back for the weekend, and I was home from college and I thought, what the hell, one last shot. And she said no. Not because she didn’t have feelings for me, but because I was also your friend. Because you both had sworn to never date each other’s friends."

"Paul, I had no idea. I…"

Paul shuts him off. “Of course you didn’t. Your head was too far up your ass to realize it.” He shakes his head at Scott, frowning. “I was in love with her for years. Years. But after the second surgery and whatever the hell you two were doing, I cut my losses, because girls like that don’t go for guys like me.”

"They don’t go for guys like me either," Scott replies quietly.

"Come off it, you selfish bastard." Paul bites back. "Scott, I know what happened before Tessa left. I’ve known the whole time."

Scott takes a step back from Paul, shocked. “Did… did she tell you”

"It just happened. Sarah was at Tessa’s, helping her pack up. Other than Kate, Sarah was the only person Tessa would see, mainly because Sarah can keep her mouth shut. Tess was an absolute mess. I came by because Sarah was worried about her. Tessa was fine for a while, but then Sarah left the room and she fell apart." Paul’s voice grows louder as he speaks, losing control of his anger. "She said that you didn’t want to see her anymore. That you didn’t even want to be friends."

Scott’s throat starts to close, gravel lines his esophagus. He can’t even reply.

"You destroyed any right, any claim of feeling you have towards her. You don’t… you don’t do that to your best friend. To someone you love,” Paul’s voice cracks and then he pushes Scott hard in the chest. He pushes him again, and again, and Scott lets him, because he feels like deep down, he deserves this.

"You’ve had her your whole goddamn life," Paul grunts out, fighting hard not to let his grief overtake him. "And all you two ever did was fuck it up. You take each other for granted. If I had just the ounce of love and caring for Sarah that you two had for each other, I wouldn’t be able to contain it. I would tell everyone how amazing everything was, I would shit roses and daisies and rainbows."

"It’s not that easy Paul," Scott forces out, sighing.

"Yeah, it really is that easy."

"No!" Scott yells, pissed. "When you’re told your whole life, to take care of her, to watch out for her, to keep her safe; but you can’t have her, you aren’t good enough, you start to believe it."

"What? You acted like a chickenshit because you don’t think you’re good enough for her?!" Paul turns and walks away for a moment, opening and closing his fists. "That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re afraid!"

"It’s the truth!" Scott exclaims. "My biggest fear, up until this week, was finally getting the chance to be with her, then waking up one day and seeing her closet empty and a note on the pillow telling me that it’s been swell, but it’s not enough."

"You’ve been together your whole lives! You two have gone through all the bullshit, all the counseling, what makes you think she’d just up and walk away?"

"Because she did once," Scott replies. "That summer that she got the surgery, she up and walked away. She told me she wasn’t so sure all of the skating was worth it and then she left without so much as a hug goodbye. I know that it ripped her up and she only said it because she was afraid, but that doesn’t change the fact that she did it."

"She was eighteen and terrified, Scott," Paul states slowly. "You’re both adults now. She’s not some fragile creature. But she also doesn’t deserve to be on this pedestal that you’ve put her on. She’s just as human, just as fallible as you. No one gets to decide who you deserve except yourself."

Paul shakes his head at Scott, spent. “I am so freaking irritated with you right now, but the only reason I came over was because Sarah wanted to know if you wanted some dinner.”

Scott shrugs, not caring. Paul grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him on to his house, walking in a stiff silence. When they enter Sarah is sitting in the kitchen, a pot of something warm and delicious-smelling simmering on the stove. Sarah exchanges a knowing look with Paul who goes upstairs to get washed up while Scott does so at the sink.

He eats, but he doesn’t taste anything, Paul and Sarah don’t say much as there isn’t anything to say. Scott takes a container of leftovers and gives Sarah a kiss on the cheek as he takes his leave, exchanging a brief nod with Paul before he walks out the door.

The entire time he walks back to his truck, Scott focuses on his breathing, pressing his hand close to his heart. It is beating slower now, which comforts him on numerous levels.

Until it doesn’t. Because he falls asleep in his parked truck, waking up to his heart racing, and it won’t slow down.

.::.

They started ridiculously early day six and covered plenty of ground. If Tessa tries hard enough she can almost imagine they’re on a hike, instead of traveling to safety. Either way, the boys moods are slowly improving, which as long as they can look on this time and not be completely traumatized, she’s happy.

Using every counseling technique she knows, she talks the boys through what they’re doing, but still tries to make a game out of it. Tuba seems to sense that this is an act, but he plays along, because he loves his brother and he trusts Tessa and Aimée to keep them safe. The boys know that something bad happened to Sister Rosa, but they understand it was to protect them and that they should not feel guilty, rather they should be proud and thankful.

Aimée’s spirits have started to lag and it troubles Tessa. This is a woman who is skilled at evasion and loves to hone in on the weaknesses of others, but will not allow the same scrutiny to be turned back on her.

"I wish you’d just talk to me," Tessa says quietly as the boys climb up a banana tree. They’ve been fortunate enough to have these trees. They provide shade and if they are lucky, green bananas.

"What do you want me to say?" Aimée sighs. "I’m tired and scared. What more is there to say?"

"But something is bothering you," Tessa replies.

"Yeah, Tess. We might not get there, and all the while we have to pretend like this is just a simple nature hike."

"We’ve got, what… just over a day’s worth of hiking left? We’re going to make it," Tessa states assuredly. She is an expert at deluding herself. How else did she win an Olympic medal when her legs were on fire and she could barely walk?

Aimée lets out a huff, shaking her head. “How do you do that? How are you so hopeful?”

Tessa shrugs. “I don’t know any other way to be. I can’t think of the alternative. You start thinking negative thoughts, they will over take you. Keep ‘em out.”

"Is that the psychologist in you talking?"

"No, the skater." Tessa bumps Aimée’s shoulder. "Seriously though. Focus on the end point. We’re going back to Aunt Okokma, she has those wonderful trees with the red flowers in her yard, and those two old goats in the back pasture. Focus on the night we spent in her home, on the sleeping mats, whispering until midnight."

Aimée smiles at the memory as she takes a seat on the ground. “I wanted to bring up something with you, now seems like as good a time as any.”

Tessa catches a couple bananas Isaiah tosses down, setting them on the ground. “Okay, what’s up?”

"What’s going on with you and my brother?"

Tessa freezes, uncertain how to proceed but thankful Aimée can’t see her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

"Don’t be obtuse. You know my brother has feelings for you."

Tessa shakes her head, eyebrows darting upward. “He’s never… we haven’t. That’s not —”

"Listen to yourself. You can’t even even make up a half-decent excuse. He’s been stomping around for the past week, before we left for Sister Rosa’s and you know how moody he’s been."

"You do realize he stomps around pretty frequently," Tessa says. "I mean, last month when the shipment was late, I’m pretty sure Jimmy thought Henri was going to lose his mind."

"That was an important shipment. See! He gets mad about important things."

"Aimée… I—" Tessa sighs, turning to her friend. "I don’t even know how to articulate this."

"Try."

"Fine… Uh, I care for Henri a lot, I really do. But I don’t think his interest in me is anything more than one of circumstance. And I don’t want to be that girl."

"You think he likes you just because you’re here?" Aimée frowns. "I can’t tell if you’re insulting my brother or yourself."

"I’m not trying to be insulting, it’s just that I’m one of the few single females he’s spent more than a month with in a long time. After everything that happened with Victoria, I think his attraction to me is just an escape from the reality of the situation than anything else."

Aimée gives Tessa a shrewd look as she leans forward . “While I see your reasoning, I think you’re hiding behind that logic instead of accepting the fact that Henri has genuine feelings for you that go beyond your appearance or who you are back home. You’re afraid because you’re now firmly into the next phase of your life in which Scott isn’t an option and the thought of loving, truly loving someone other than him, terrifies you.”

"I’m not afraid," Tessa frowns, picking at a blade of grass. "I just don’t want to expel precious energy on feelings for a person when I know the relationship won’t go anywhere. Henri lives here. His home is Uganda. His life, his job, his everything… it’s here. I would never ask him to give that up, nor would I be able to give up what I want to do. I’ve worked too hard."

"So you have thought about it then," Aimée observes, leaning back on her hands. "That’s good. Very good. It means you’re not completely hopeless."

"Hopeless? Thanks," Tessa gives a lopsided frown as she helps Isaiah climb down, followed by Tuba.

"You like Henri?" asks Tuba, frowning. "That’s gross."

Tessa sighs, glancing at Aimée. “Thank a lot.”

Aimée pulls out her camera and snaps a picture, grinning. “No Tuba, Tessa doesn’t like my brother. Don’t forget, she’s an ice princess. They don’t have feelings.”

The words are said jokingly, but it doesn’t ease the sting they leave behind.

Later that night as they hunker down beneath shrubbery for the night, Tessa settles against Harbuu, listening to her breathing. She closes her eyes and tries to imagine being on the ice, Scott’s arm’s around hers, focusing on slowing her heart and her breathing.

Just then, she hears the rumble of a truck. Immediately she is awake, as is Tuba who is curled next to her. She wraps a hand around his mouth to keep him quiet, tapping Aimée on the arm to ensure she’s doing the same with Isaiah. The truck growls as it travels on uneven terrain, stopping nearly a football field away.

They hear the voices again, deep and foreign, not the familiar Lugandan of the people in this region. Tessa glances around, ensuring every part of them is covered by brush, praying Aimée is doing the same. She rubs Harbuu’s paw slowly, hoping the dog won’t bark in protest if the men get too close.

Slowly they move closer and closer, picking over the bushes, swiping at brush with long knives and sticks. All the while Tessa is holding her breath, willing herself deeper into the ground. She starts to think of alternatives, in case they get too close. Slowly she reaches for her knife from her belt, opening it carefully. She has no idea what she’ll do with it, but she knows how to hold the thing.

Of the four of them, she is easily the fastest. Perhaps she could create a diversion, run another way and allow them the chance to escape. Shit. What is she thinking? This isn’t a movie and she is not a superhero. These men will capture her and rape her, then beat her senseless or keep her for their enjoyment.

Talking herself out of this plan, she feels Tuba’s body start to relax and she comes back into focus. The men have moved another direction farther south, then back toward their truck. After a few moments, the truck rumbles back to the road, carrying the men away.

"Are you both okay?" Aimée asks after a reasonable period of time has lapsed.

"Yeah, we’re fine. We’re fine. How.. how did they find us?"

"There are only so many directions to go, Tess. They must be patrolling the area."

"We’ve got to pick up the pace tomorrow," Tessa states. "The more time we waste, the bigger the risk."

"Agreed." Aimée replies. "Having a cloudy sky and no moon is both a blessing and a curse. Keeps us shielded, but it also makes it hard to cover ground at night."

"As soon as it starts to grow light, we’ll take off." Tessa and Aimée agree with the plan, both too keyed up to fall back asleep. Aimée hunkers back down and tries to sooth Isaiah who’s crying softly. Tessa returns to Tuba, who’s sitting up, hugging his knees.

"I’m sorry," Tuba whispers, "I couldn’t help it."

Confused, Tessa reaches for his hands and feels dampness. He wet his pants. “Don’t worry about it. You were so brave. So brave. Here, let’s get you out of your pants. You can wear my extra t-shirt. We’ll wash your pants in the morning.”

Tessa reaches in her bag and pulls out the shirt she’d brought to sleep in initially. She’s been swapping it out every other day with the one she’s wearing. By now the fabric is scratchy with dried, salty sweat. The shirt is far too large for Tuba’s small body, but at least he’s dry. They had baby wipes the first two days, but all she has left now is hand sanitizer.

After a few minutes, they crawl over to Aimée and Isaiah, with Harbuu as their pillow. Eventually the boys fall asleep again, but Tessa and Aimée remain awake, hands clenched tightly as they keep watch.

The following day, they cover over twenty kilometers and are making excellent time until disaster strikes. Aimée is in the lead, testing out uneven ground as they’re passing through a marsh-like area close to the river. It’s slowed them town somewhat and they’re about to risk going closer to the road just in sight, when Aimée walks into a boggy spot and slides down an embankment toward the river which is rushing past loudly.

"Aimée!" Tessa calls, alarmed. "Boys, stay right here, do not move. Watch my pack."

Tessa goes to harder ground and peers over to where Aimée is lying, breathing rapidly. “Tess, I think I messed up my ankle. Bad.”

"Can you move at all?"

"Yeah, but it hurts."

"Okay, just… stay there, I’m coming down." Carefully, Tessa eases down the embankment to Aimée. Her foot is skewed at an angle that is indicative of a possible fracture. Tessa doesn’t even bother to hide her reaction when she sees how pale Aimée has grown. "Shit, Aimée, don’t pass out. Hold on. I’m going to get you up."

After about five minutes of careful maneuvering, Tessa has Aimée wrapped around her shoulders, injured foot sticking out awkwardly. Slowly, she pulls them back up the hill, struggling with slippery mud and loose roots. Once she gets them on flat ground, she lowers Aimée and summons the boys over.

"What’s wrong with her foot?" Isaiah asks, pointing at it’s unnatural angle.

"I think she broke it, buddy," Tessa says as she grabs her pack and shoves it under Aimée’s foot. She pulls out Scott’s kit and looks for anything that could help. She finds some motrin and grabs the water, handing it over to Aimée who is growing paler by the second.

"Don’t… I can’t… I’m going to be sick," Aimée grunts out just before turning to the side and vomiting liquid and green banana. She does this two more times, increasing Tessa’s concern. Finally, she stabilizes, breathing heavily. Tessa examines Aimée’s foot, frowning as it starts to get blue and cold.

"Aimée, I’m no doctor, but… I think your foot is dislocated or something. I’ve seen plenty of broken ankles. This is different."

"No shit," she grunts out, sweat matting her hair to her forehead. "Can you do anything to fix it? I can’t even feel my toes."

Tessa sits back, shaking her head. “Are you serious? No. What could I do?”

"Put it back in place, fuck I don’t know. Shit this hurts. Shit shit shit."

Tessa stands and walks around the clearing, frowning. This is the worst possible thing that could have happened. Shit. Shit Shit.

"Tessa! I think Aimée fell asleep." Tuba calls from his place beside Aimée’s head.

Cursing, Tessa runs back over to an unconscious Aimée and drops to her knees, pulling up Aimée’s pant leg. She starts to feel Aimée’s leg, very familiar with the anatomy as she’s spent entire years worth of time in rehab. She feels for the bones of Aimée’s ankle, knowing with all certainty that they aren’t where they need to be. Her foot, torqued to the right at such a degree, needs to be put back in place or all the blood flow will be cut off.

She is struck by the memory of the afternoon she spent at the ice hockey rink with Steve, watching as his teammate hurt his ankle in almost the exact same way. She recalls how the athletic trainer pulled the foot out and over, providing traction as he slid it back to it’s proper position.

Fuck, shit, goddamn is a litany that goes off in her head as she tries to work up the intestinal fortitude to do this to Aimée’s foot. The muscles are starting to grow tight, which will make it even more difficult if Tessa waits any longer.

"Okay, boys, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to sit on Aimée’s arms, in case she wakes up. She will most likely try to kick me or stop me, and that isn’t going to help matters."

The boys do as they are told, moving into position. Tessa glances at Isaiah and Tuba then puts one hand on Aimée’s shin and cups the bottom of her foot with the other. Taking three quick breaths she pulls Aimée’s foot towards her then pushes it over, feeling the bones grind roughly against each other until she feels it clunk into place.

Aimée wakes up mid shift and screams in agony. Once complete, Tessa falls back on her hands, immediately nauseous. She pushes away and turns, vomiting up much the same as Aimée. The boys remain silent as Aimée starts crying again, watching as Tessa gets her bearings. Sitting up, Tessa wipes her forehead with the back of her hand and crawls back over to Aimée who’s hands are balled up in fists, letting out sharp breaths.

"I can’t do this. I can’t. God it hurts. I can’t do this." Aimée grits out, face red and wet.

Tessa reaches inside Aimée’s pack and grabs her spare shirt, ripping off the sleeve and pouring a small bit of water on it. She reaches up and wipes down Aimée’s brow. Tessa keeps her voice calm and low, much more than she feels, and states with all certainty: “Yes, you can. I’m going to get you there. Don’t worry.”

After a couple minutes color starts to return to Aimée’s foot, but the swelling remains. Aimée, completely spent, is finally able to swallow a couple pills, then falls asleep. Tessa pulls out the map and measures how much distance is left between them and their destination. 17 kilometers. Nearly a days worth of travel. Tessa thinks about the previous night, then glances at Aimée’s giant ankle. They don’t have that kind of time anymore.

The boys eat another banana while Tessa chews on the end of a blade of grass, still too nauseas to stomach anything. Tuba quietly picks up Aimée’s pack, while Tessa puts her own around her front, and Isaiah wakes Aimée. Carefully, Tessa gets Aimée wrapped around her shoulders, her legs wrapped around her waist.

Aimée is taller than Tessa and outweighs her by about fifteen pounds. Not much, but it takes it’s toll. They make it another four kilometers by nightfall, then spend a solid ten minutes finding a safe area to bunker down for the night.

"In the morning, you’re going to have to run to the village and get me a ride," Aimée states plainly. "I can’t… you can’t keep carrying me."

"Yes, I can," Tessa replies stubbornly. "I’m not leaving you. It’s too dangerous."

Tuba and Isaiah watch them quietly as the women bicker back and forth for several minutes. When they come to a standstill, Tuba starts talking, soft and quiet, as though he were imitating Sister Rosa.

"We have a saying here, Tessa," he grabs her hand the same way he did at dinner nearly a week ago. "If you want to go fast, you go alone. If you want to go far, you go together."

Tessa stares down at this eight year old boy, completely dumbstruck. How is he so wise, yet so young? Then again, he’s grown up with Sister Rosa, the wisest person she’s ever known. It had to rub off somehow.

"So you’re saying I should go get us help?’

Tuba shrugs, tugging at her fingers. “I’m saying that you run very fast. And you are a princess. People will help you.”

"Tuba, I’m not a real princess," Tessa smiles at him as she glances at Aimée. "I’m just me."

"No," Tuba shakes his head stubbornly. "You danced for us. You were exactly like what a princess should be: strong and with much grace. To me, that is a princess."

Isaiah nods his head furiously in agreement. “It was pretty.”

Tessa grins at them, pulling that blasted beanie off Isaiah’s head. It smells awful, but he still refuses to take it off. “It makes me feel brave. Let me keep it on.” He always says.

"What do you say, Flash?" Aimée asks quietly, reaching for Tessa’s hand. "One last run?"

After many nights of poor sleep, Tessa finally succumbs to exhaustion. Due to Aimée’s injury, the boys are cocooned around Tessa, not wanting to accidentally bump Aimee in the night. When she wakes early the next morning, it’s to a strange clicking sound. Tuba is curled against her side, resting on her now asleep arm, while somehow Isaiah has crawled up ontop of her in his sleep and is lying sprawled across her, his head burrowed in her neck. She glances over at Aimée who is sitting up, wide awake, holding her camera.

"Foot bothering you?"

Aimée nods, frowning at her inability to describe the pain. “It’s light. You should get going.”

Tessa wakes the boys carefully, and sits up slowly. Dirt is caked underneath her nails, her skin is blotchy from sun exposure and dust. Her pants are ripped in various places and her hair is sticking out fifty different ways. She doesn’t remember when she showered last and it strikes her that must look a fright.

"Come here," Aimée beckons. "I know that look. I’ll braid your hair before you go."

Tessa eats a banana as Aimée french braids her greasy, dirty hair with care. When she’s finished, Aimée pats her back and places a kiss on the back of her exposed shoulder. Tessa turns and hugs Aimée, then turns back to the boys who are quiet and watchful.

"Like we discussed, if I’m not back by nightfall, what are you going to do?" They review all the worst case scenarios and finally, Tessa is ready to go. She leaves her knife with Aimée and tucks the map inside her nearly empty pack. The map has an ‘X’ drawn over their location so Tessa can find them on the return trip.

Tessa gives them all hugs and smiles as Tuba solemnly swears to protect them. She kisses him on the forehead and calls him a noble prince, then turns toward the village and starts running with Harbuu behind her.

.::.::.::.

After leaving his property early the next morning with a racing heart, he goes home to his empty place and stands in the kitchen for a solid five minutes staring at his empty fridge. He breaks down and goes to his closet, pulls out a box and opens it up, unearthing all sorts of things that reminded him of Tessa.

Innocuous items, like hotel key cards from memorable trips, a dried flower from each of their olympic skates that she’d given to him. A napkin from a restaurant in Japan when he realized he was in love with her for the 17th time. A beer bottle cap when she broke his heart for the 20th time. Her fleece pullover that she’d left at the diner that one day last year, which he never returned. He reaches for it and holds it to his face, inhaling deeply. Though not as strong, her scent is still present, still as memory provoking.

He walks over to his bed and curls up with his face burrowed into the fleece. He thinks back on one day several years ago, when his voice was still occasionally wobbly and her freckles were more pronounced. They were sitting at the track, resting between sprints.

 

"Hey Tess," Scott asked, glancing at her as she rests her head on her knees, stretching. "This might be kinda weird, but hey, I’m a guy who dances for fun, so whatever."

She looks up at him expectantly, curious. “Go on…”

"Do you feel like we’re different than other people?"

"What do you mean?"

"I dunno, it’s just… you know how we can always feel each other, like…"

"Like maybe we’re soul mates?" she asks quietly. She’s barely sixteen and he has a girlfriend and absolutely not.

"No, that’s bullshit that movies talk about," Scott frowns. "Besides, we’d need to be in love for something like that. It’s different somehow, like…"

"Deeper?" she replies knowingly. "Maybe we are different. But I like that I feel so connected to you. It’s comforting or something."

He watches her a for a moment, thinking. “Yeah, I like it too. It’s strange though, right?”

She shrugs in all her innocence. “Does it matter? As long as it helps us skate, I think it’s great.”

"What about everything else?"

"Everything else?" she echoes, not understanding. "You’ve got a girlfriend, so I don’t think it causes that much of a problem. You can feel her too, right?"

Having only been on one rather sorry date and many fumbled skating parties, Tessa has yet to embark upon a relationship and fully understand the challenges that Scott faces. He tries to explain it sometimes, but until she goes through it, she won’t understand.

"I feel her, but… it’s not the same. I care about her a lot, but… I don’t know. It’s…" he doesn’t finish, but wants to say that it’s not enough. Before he can say anything more, they’re called back out onto the track to continue their workout.

They don’t resume that discussion for another couple of years. Tessa and Fedor have just broken up, and she’s sitting outside at a park, forlorn. “I get it now. What you were talking about that one day, at the track.”

He nods and reaches out, taking her hand. “Are we always going to have this problem? Is this thing between us always going to screw up all our relationships?”

She glances over at him for a moment and lets out a breath, shaking her head. “Not if we don’t let it become a problem.”

 

His phone buzzes, breaking him from his trance of memories. It’s his mom, telling him to come to the Virtue’s home. Apparently the Embassy is trying to decide if launching a search party is worth it. He rises slowly from his bed and changes clothes, then drives over to hear what they have to say.

He sits in his parked car for a few moments, watching her house, feeling heavy. He takes a deep breath and exits the vehicle when his parents arrive, walking with them to the front door. Tessa’s Dad answers, holding out a hand to shake and directing them to the living room.

Scott goes to the far wall and leans against it, taking in the scene. Everyone is there, including Jordan, who flew in last week to surprise Tessa and be there her for the baby’s delivery. Some surprise. He watches her, sitting next to Kate and holding her hand. She’s not crying, but she’s pale and wan and silent. Grief has a way of changing people, of shrinking exuberant passionate women like Jordan into small wallflowers.

He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like any of this. His parents are sitting in two chairs, chatting with Casey’s wife, who looks ready to pop at any moment. She had a false alarm earlier in the week, but now she’s a day past her due date and clearly miserable. She refuses to be induced, however.

Tessa’s dad enters with a couple of the officials that has been liaising between them and the Canadian Embassy in Uganda. The officials are dressed in awful suits and have this constant air of sullen arrogance. He immediately dislikes the guy with a buzz cut and a pedofile-stash.

Buzz Cut starts talking first. “Good afternoon, as most of you know, I’m Jean Le Marc. We’ve just finished speaking with the embassy regarding our next step. As it stands, the political climate in Uganda and nearby countries Central African Republic and the Congo, have been slowly growing more and more tense as the months have worn on. Our intel reports that a military coup is likely in Central African Republic. Much of the C.A.R. military was trained by Ugandan forces, namely Michael Mbossa, who was killed the day Tessa went missing. The issue is this: we cannot move ahead in an unstable environment. Not only is it unsafe, the embassy has actually ordered all non-essential personnel to return back to Canada. The Americans, Brits, and some of the EU have done the same.”

"So you’re saying Uganda and Central African Republic are about to implode and we’re going to leave Tessa somewhere in the middle of it?" Summarizes Tessa’s brother, Kevin.

"What we’re saying, is that it’s unsafe to look for her when the political and military environment is becoming volatile again. This happens at least two or three times a year."

"Yeah, but how often do you order people to return home?"

"Maybe once a year. Whether they return or not is their business. Most don’t, as they’ve grown accustomed to the instability. I liken it to someone who lives in an area frequented by tornados or hurricanes. After a while, their definition of danger is different than someone not in the middle of it. They grow jaded." Buzz Cut states. "Listen, we know this is hard, but we’re doing what we can. I just want you all to be aware of the challenges we’re facing and that maybe it’s time to start preparing —"

"Shut your mouth," Scott interrupts, irritated. "It’s only been a week. Don’t ask us to prepare for the worst. You’re already throwing in the towel before anything has been done."

"Sir, I assure you that we are doing everything within our means to track down Ms. Virtue. Bear in mind that even in Canada, rule of thumb is that if someone has been missing for over 48 hours, you’re not likely to ever see them again. Plain and simple."

"Rule of thumb? Fuck that." Scott sneers. "No. I don’t buy that. Tessa’s the exception then. She will always be the exception.”

"Scott —" his Mom starts, trying to calm Scott down.

"No, this is ridiculous." Scott pushes off from the wall, glaring at the officials. "You’re an idiot. Tessa is fine and she is coming home."

He doesn’t even bother to look around at the shocked and sad faces of her family and his as he walks out the back door into her backyard. He can’t even bother controlling his temper anymore. Not worth it. None of this is worth it.

Scott eases into the swing on her back porch, pressing his hand to his chest, pretending it’s Tessa’s, and takes long slow breaths, working to control his breathing. His pulse is slower than it was earlier today, which is comforting, but whatever.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, breaking his focus. His phone got slammed with texts when the news broke, but after he politely told everyone to fuck off, it was a lot quieter. Surprisingly, this text is from an unlikely source: Meryl Davis.

Just wanted to say that if there is anyone who could get through this, it’d be Tessa. She’s the strongest person I know. Remember that.

He replies with thanks, knowing that if anyone else would be justified in commenting on her strength, it’d be someone who spent everyday in the locker room with Tessa. Sure, after Igor left, things went to shit, but in the end, they’re all linked by a strife-ridden childhood devoted to achieving an Olympic gold medal.

The door opens and Tessa’s mom comes out onto the porch, wrapping herself in her coat. Even in the depth of despair, the woman’s makeup is carefully applied. She remains chic and beautiful as always. Tessa gets her approach to coping from her mother. The more she hurts the better she looks; that way, people get distracted and no one asks the hard questions.

She takes a seat beside Scott, quiet. The only sign of struggle is the way she chews on the corner of her lip, another trait Tessa inherited. They remain quiet for a few minutes, listening as others talk inside, muffled voices, doors opening and closing.

"I want you to know, that I don’t blame you, for what happened with Tessa before she left. You both have been so caught up in each other for years… it’s only natural to want to have a completely separate life. Right before she left, she told me that despite the fact that it hurt so bad, she was glad you were happy. I hope you believe that."

Scott nods, picking at a hangnail. “I do. I just… I wish I’d given her a proper goodbye.”

"I think… I think if you’d have done that, you wouldn’t have let her go. Just as hard as it was for her to leave, it was just as hard for you to maintain your distance. This was good for both of you. A chance to grow and see who you are apart from each other. And though she isn’t here at the moment, I know she’d be proud of you."

In the third time in as many days, his throat starts to close up as his emotions get the better of him. Kate rubs his shoulder gently as he lets out a slow breath, feeling a little bit of the weight of the world lift off his shoulders.

"If they shut down the search," Scott starts, turning to Kate. "I want you to know that I will go and —"

Suddenly the door jerks open. Jordan sticks out her head. “Mom! We gotta go to the hospital! Her water just broke!”

Kate rises quickly with Scott in close pursuit. For such a large family, the Virtues sure do know how to load up a mini-van and a SUV in a heartbeat.

"I need you to stay here Scott, in case… In case she calls the house," Kate whispers as she walks to the passenger side door. "She left us a message the day… she left us a message. I need you to stay by that phone until we get back."

Scott nods solemnly. “I promise.”

She squeezes his hand and climbs inside the van as they tear off for the hospital. His parents take their leave as Scott informs them of his orders to remain beside the phone. Returning inside, Scott looks at Tessa’s two dogs who waggle their tails in excitement. There’s a cat running around somewhere, but he’s certainly not going to go find it.

The dogs follow him into the kitchen where he stops in front of the answering machine. He stares at it for a solid five minutes before he plucks up the courage to press play. He skips an old message from Jordan and one from Kevin, both of whom have been away from home frequently in the past few years. Then he lands on Tessa’s voice and his breath catches in his chest.

"Hey guys! It’s Tessa. I just wanted to confirm my arrival on the 27th of September at… at 8 am!" Scott glances at the calendar posted over the phone. Tessa’s date of arrival is circled and highlighted in much the same way their old competitions used to be. The baby also has a date circled, though it chose not to come the day it was supposed to.

Perhaps today will be the day for all good things to happen.

.::.::.::.

Tessa is pretty sure she’s lost. No, she’s certain. How she manages to get lost all the time, is a source of endless frustration for her, but is currently making her incredibly angry.

Her legs are on fire and she’s dehydrated and she has no idea where she is. Harbuu sits beside her, panting loudly. They’ve been jogging for a solid hour and both are spent. She looks around for a tree to climb, hoping to get a sense of where she needs to go.

Finding a good candidate, she makes her way up the tree and for the first time in nearly a week, feels genuine hope. She can see the village, not too far, with people milling about.

"I see it Harbuu! We’re going to make it! We’re gonna be fine!"

Tessa drops from the tree and rubs Harbuu fondly. “You ready? Just a little bit more.”

She weaves through the brush, coming to a slow walk when she nears the village. Just because she’s reached it, doesn’t mean the men aren’t here. She creeps along carefully until she finds the trail that leads to Aunt Okoma’s home.

Just as she remembered, the large trees with the great big red flowers welcome her with a great sense of comfort. Carefully, she cuts through the pasture to the back of the yard. Aunt Okoma comes out immediately, having spotted Tessa walking up the way.

"Child! Where have you been! Look at you!" Aunt Okoma frets over Tessa’s appearence until she cuts her off.

"We’ll talk about that later. Listen, something happened, and I need your help."

After quickly relaying what happened, Aunt Okoma orders her oldest son, Amos, to run for his bicycle and another son to ask the neighbor for his phone. Tessa chugs a couple glasses of water then turns to Aunt Okoma, squeezing her hands before taking off with Amos to collect Aimée. Tessa scribbles down a number on a piece of paper. “Call Henri, tell him your location, and tell him to bring Dr. Nakato with him. Okay?”

Amos lets Tessa sit on the back of his bicycle as he pedals down the trail that runs parallel to the river. When the trail disappears he leaves the bike in the bush and jogs after Tessa. Within thirty minutes they’ve reached the boys and Aimée, all of whom are overjoyed to see Amos. Tirelessly, he pulls Aimée onto his back while Tessa grabs Isaiah with Tuba jogging between them. Once they resume the trail, Amos sets Aimée on the back of the bike carefully, while Isaiah rides on the handlebars.

Tessa and Tuba bring up the rear, jogging slowly behind them. Tuba is tired and Tessa feels knives stabbing her legs with every step. She clenches her fists so tightly that she breaks the skin and her palms start to bleed.

Eventually, they reach Aunt Okoma’s and at once Tessa feels the exhaustion overtake her. Nearly collapsing on the ground beneath one of those glorious trees, one of the many children running around goes inside to fetch her some water. The world continues to spin, however, and Tessa can barely make out what others are saying to her. All she knows is that she made it.

Two hours later, Henri arrives with three jeeps and a satelite phone. Tessa has made her way inside at this point and is resting on a sleeping mat beside Tuba and Isaiah. She hears loud voices outside but can’t be bothered to learn what the ruckus is about. Then Henri sweeps in and goes immediately to his sister, wrapping her tightly in his arms.

It’s then that Tessa realizes how rough this must have been for him. For her family. For many people. She’d been so focused on staying alive and keeping the boys safe, that she forgot about everything else. Then she thinks about the fact that she likely missed the delivery of the baby. Reality settles in hot and fast and Tessa feels a pressing weight of anxiety on her chest.

She needs to let her family know she’s okay, immediately. “Henri? Your phone. Did you bring your phone?”

Pulling away from his sister and wiping his face clean of tears he comes over to Tessa and pulls her into a tight hug, whispering that he’s so thankful for her. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I cannot believe you. I cannot for a million years.”

When they separate, he presses his lips to her forehead then pulls the boys into a hug. Tessa glances over and sees Peter Nakato working on Aimée, quickly starting an IV and assessing her injury.

"Henri, your phone. I need to call my family and let them know I’m okay."

He sets down Isaiah and blinks at her dumbly for a moment, clearly not having slept in days. Nodding, he reaches for the phone from his bag and hands it to her.

Quickly, she dials the number to her mother’s cell phone. By the second ring, a deep voice answers. “Hello?”

"Dad?"

Silence.

"Daddy? It’s me. Tessa."

She hears a long breath as her father replies, his voice cracking. “Tessa? Tessa! Where are you? Are you okay?”

"Yes, I’m fine. I’m good. Is everyone okay?"

"Yes, hold… on." She hears her reserved and quiet father start to yell loudly. "It’s Tessa! Tessa’s on the phone! She’s alive! She’s okay!"

Then she hears a lot of yelling in the background and she grows concerned. Quickly her mother comes over the phone and Tessa dissolves into tears. By the end of the emotional phone call, Tessa learns that she is an aunt, and that she has one more phone call to make.

.::.

It’s nearly two in the morning when Scott receives a text from Jordan, informing him that she is the proud aunt of 7 pounds 8 ounces of a beautiful baby girl. Scott smiles as the picture follows shortly after, a tiny little baby face with tiny little hands and a tiny little baby cap. He replies to her but she never responds, which isn’t surprising.

The dogs are sitting beside him on the couch, even though they know they aren’t supposed to. He figured they could cheat since he certainly wasn’t going to tell on them. He rises quietly and stretches, thirsty. While he’s in the kitchen, he presses play on the machine and listens to the message for the seventeenth time, then finally gives in and goes upstairs to her room.

He’s struck immediately upon entering how much it smells like her and how tidy everything is. She loves things to stay organized, mainly because she can’t handle clutter, it overwhelms her. That doesn’t mean she is a neat freak, because she’s been known to let things go once or twice, but over all, she keeps it all together.

Glancing at some of the pictures hung on the wall, his phone starts to ring. It’s Shannon. He’s barely spoken to her in days.

"Hey," he starts quietly. "You at work?"

"Yeah, I get off at three. I hate this shift." She huffs. "It’s been super slow tonight. Which, I can’t complain, it just makes things drag on."

They chat for a few minutes as Scott walks around Tessa’s room. He stops at her vanity and picks up her perfume, taking a sniff. It smells different on her, warmer, softer. All the while, he carries on a conversation with Shannon, talking but not focusing.

"Look, I wanted to apologize how I acted after my mom left," she states finally, like it was a challenge to form the words. "She was out of line, and I appreciate you speaking up for me."

Scott nods, then realizes she can’t see him. “I appreciate that. But you gotta understand that you can’t just write me off every time I disagree with you. That’s not how this works, Shannon.”

"I know, you’re right," she replies softly. "How are you holding up? Where are you?"

"I’m… whatever. I’m at the Virtue’s house. I was here earlier when they all had to go to the hospital because Casey’s wife just had a baby girl."

"That’s wonderful!" Shannon’s voice picks up, warm and excited. "Wait. Why are you still there then?"

Scott sits on Tessa’s bed for a moment, holding a picture of the both of them after Worlds in Nice. Clearing his throat, Scott replies softly, “I’m here in case she calls the home phone while they’re away.”

The silence on the other line is strange, but then he realizes Shannon is covering the mouthpiece as she talks with someone.

"Let me know when you leave, you can stay at my place tonight. Norma Jean misses you," she replies quickly. "I’ve gotta go, one of my patients just woke up."

Scott ends the call and remains seated on Tessa’s bed. He reaches up for a pillow and hugs it toward his chest. It smells like her laundry detergent, like sleepy Tessa at five in the morning on training days. The perfume on the table is fancy Tessa before a gala. The fleece pullover is everyday Tessa. So many Tessas wrapped into one.

His phone buzzes again and he answers without looking at the screen, thinking it’s Shannon again.

"Yeah?" he states, his voice muffled by her pillow.

"Scott?" He darts up in bed, his heart going from 60-100 in half a second. "Scott?"

"Tess? Tessa is that you?" he leans forward, pushing his phone closer to his ear. The transmission is weak and spotty and he can barely hear her.

"Yeah! Yeah it’s me. My mom said you were at the house still."

"Yeah, how are you are you okay are you alright where are you what—" Scott spews the words faster than they can leave his mouth. He hears her laugh, imagines her shaking her head at him.

"Slow down! I’m fine, I’m okay. All in one piece."

"What happened!?"

"I… I can’t tell you right now. When I get home, I swear."

"When are you coming home?"

"I won’t leave until tomorrow night at the earliest. There’s… there are things I need to do first."

"But that’s so far away."

"Hey, we’re safe, that’s all that matters, right?"

"Yeah, I guess so." He’s about to ask her more questions, but the line starts to get more static.

"Scott? It’s breaking up. I’ll call you tonight. Promise."

"Okay, okay. Thanks for —" the line goes dead. He stares at his phone for a few moments as his heart settles, wondering if he just made that up. A few seconds later, as if sensing his distress, Jordan texts him, confirming that Tessa did indeed call. Let everyone know she’s alright, k?

Immediately, he sets about composing a text message to everyone in his contact list: Just received a call from Tessa. She is safe and well. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers.

This moment of thoughtlessness bites him in the ass as he receives 234 messages in the span of five minutes. Who knew so many people were still awake at almost three in the morning?

Scott calls his mom and lets her know, as well as his brothers and Paul. Once he’s done, he let’s out a deep breath and lies back on her bed again, breathing easy for the first time since he went to work nearly a week ago.

Eventually Scott makes his way downstairs, bored and restless. He goes to their pantry, fully stocked as only the home of one expecting the return of all it’s children. Going to the answering machine, he listens to her message a couple more times then returns to the pantry. Running through his options, Scott thinks for a minute then grabs some ingredients and gets to work.

Four hours later the sleepy Virtues return home, exhausted in the best way possible. They find a plate full of homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and another plate with a mound of Chocolate muffins with white chocolate chips. With it is a note: There are exactly 10 cookies and 10 muffins. All for Tessa. Don’t think I won’t ask if she got them. - Scott


	19. 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows, just like she does, that this isn’t over

.::.::.::.

Tessa walks the perimeter of her luxurious hotel room at the Speke resort in Kampala. Dr. Hightower arranged for her, Henri, and Dr. Peter Nakato to stay at the resort while Aimée recuperates at the International Hospital Kampala. While Henri and Peter check up on Aimée, Tessa has been gently ordered to clean up and rest. Too tired to argue, she agrees and follows the porter to her room where he shows her all the amenities. She keeps her arms crossed and barely moves the entire time, not wanting to get anything dirty.

Then all at once, she is alone and it is quiet. Too quiet.

She hobbles on sore legs to the bathroom and sheds her clothes, shoving them into the trash bin. She’d light them on fire if she could. She stares at her reflection in the mirror for a few minutes, trying to identify with the person looking back at her. It’s more a combination of extreme fatigue and the completion of her goal, but she feels an acute sense of disassociation at the moment.

Her skin is filthy and sun burnt, all exposed areas peeling and angry. Her freckles are too dark; her hair is matted, greasy, and caked with dirt. Her lips are chapped and her nails are destroyed. Her palms have four half-moon scabs each, evidence of her earlier running pain that still smarts. Her body is speckled with scrapes and bruises, but there are notable ones on her abdomen and hip; and a long, deep scratch spanning from her thigh to her knee as well as her shoulder. Sleeping in the brush is no joke.

Taking a deep breath, she turns to the shower and steps inside, turning it as hot as her sunburned skin can stand. The floor of the shower turns grey-brown as water pours over her skin, washing her clean. Tessa scrubs every inch of her body until it’s pink and sensitive. She washes her hair twice, still not feeling quite clean enough.

Eventually she steps out and finds a clean pair of pants and a tank top, then applies lotion and brushes her hair. When she’s done, she looks at herself in the mirror again, but doesn’t like what she sees, so she stops looking altogether.

An hour later, she’s sitting on the tile floor, staring at the ground. She calls her mom and talks for a while, but the conversation is stilted. There are so many questions that need to be asked, but this isn’t the time to do it. So, she deflects most the questions, asking about the baby and what’s been going on at home instead. After, she calls Scott, but gets his voicemail. Figures.

Peter knocks on her door, inviting her to join him and Henri for dinner. She agrees, mentally preparing herself for their questions. Peter escorts Tessa downstairs on the outdoors terrace, where Henri is already waiting, freshly showered and looking like he caught a nap. Aimée is resting at the hospital, high on meds and anticipating a sponge bath from her nurse.

Henri’s eyes barely stray from Tessa the whole time, watching her as though he can’t believe she’s in front of him. The intensity of his gaze does not go unmissed by his friend, who comments on this while Tessa is in the restroom. Upon returning, Henri takes care not to stare, but once they start asking their questions and she relays the story, he can’t help it.

"Wait, so let me get this straight, you and Aimée took turns carrying Isaiah?"

"You ate bananas for three days? That’s what kept you fed? What about the wildlife?"

"How did my sister break her ankle, exactly?… YOU DID WHAT!?… How did you even know how to do that?"

"… you’re the one that saw it all? You saw… you saw them kill her? What about the boys? What about Aimée?"

They grow silent after that, which is good, because she’s done talking. She throws down the rest of her shillings and thanks them for a lovely meal. Not willing to leave her alone, they walk her back to her room and bid her good evening.

.::.::.::.

“Euf! Down, Norma Jean. Down!” Scott yelps as Norma bounces around excitedly. It’s the first time he’s seen her in a week. As she settles, he reaches out for Shannon and gives her a hug, wrapping her up tightly.

“Welcome home,” she whispers. “Want anything to eat?”

“Nah,” he replies. “Let’s just go to bed. I’m tired.”

It’s midday and Shannon doesn’t reply that she just woke up after her night shift, just grabs his hand and follows him to bed. Norma Jean pads after them, assuming she’s included in this naptime. He sheds his clothes and climbs into bed, curling around Shannon in such a way that his head is resting on her chest.

Scott falls asleep within seconds, the emotional turmoil of losing Tessa having taken it’s toll. It’s deep and absent of dreams, his sleep. When he wakes, it’s late afternoon and Shannon isn’t there. He glances around her room, confused but unsurprised. Normal people can’t sleep in the daytime like that.

“Morning sleepyhead,” she says as he enters the kitchen, searching for a banana and orange juice. “Want me to make you something?”

“No, I’m not that hungry.” He settles beside her on the couch, glancing at her book. “Good book?”

Shannon shrugs, setting it down as she turns to face him, tucking her toes beneath his thigh. “So Tessa’s okay?”

“Yeah. She called just after I got off the phone with you,” he replies, peeling his banana. “It was a quick call. She’ll be home day after tomorrow. I think? I can’t tell. Time difference.”

“She’s been all over the news today,” Shannon notes as she clicks on the television. “Lots of people have lots of things to say about what a beautiful figure skater was doing at the home of a former Ugandan Colonel.”

“Fuck them.” Scott frowns, watching as the news breezes over local affairs and talks about international concerns. “Those people are idiots. She was doing research. That’s all.”

“She’s in the middle of grad school, right?” Shannon asks, cocking her head to the side. “What is she doing, exactly?”

Scott sucks in a breath. He’s never been too good at explaining Tessa’s work. “I’m going to phrase this wrong, so forgive me. She wants an international law degree so she can deal with policy and stuff regarding conflicts in war-torn countries.”

“Post-conflict reconstruction?” Shannon offers with a smile.

“Yes! Yeah, how do you do that?”

“Her professor, Dr. Bouchard, I think? Was on the news earlier this morning, speaking on Tessa’s behalf. She seemed very happy that Tessa’s okay.”

“I’d hope so. That old bat is the reason Tessa was over there to begin with,” Scott scowls as a picture of Tessa pops up on the screen. “I thought this was an American station.”

“Tessa was working with an American organization with loads of American students. Her benefactor was also American. They have some interest. That, and a beautiful woman goes missing on a do-gooder mission in Uganda. Makes for great news.”

“They’ve been talking about her a lot, haven’t they?”

“Non-stop. I finally got to see a long clip of you two dancing. It was a preview of Stars on Ice. Fly Me to the Moon? Good song choice.”

“Yeah, we love that song. Good ol’ Frank,” Scott runs his hand along his face. He hasn’t shaved in days and his poor excuse for facial hair feels patchy. “You ever going to watch us dance?”

Shannon shrugs, playing with the cover of her book. “Not sure yet. Probably. You look like you have a lot of fun when you do it.”

“That’s because I do.” Scott replies, running his hand up her leg, tracing her knee with his thumb. “So… Paul reminded me of something the other day, and I realized that he was right…”

“Is that so?” bracing her head against her arm, she smiles at Scott. “And what would that be?”

Scott smiles at her, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Well, it goes like this: I’m in love with you, but I haven’t told you because it freaks me out a little. And you don’t need to say it back or anything, but —“ Shannon leans forward and stops his words with a kiss on the lips.

“I love you too,” she whispers as she kisses him again and again. Norma Jean is not invited into the bedroom this time around.

.::.::.::.

Bored. Tessa is so bored. It’s late and quiet and she’s alone. For the first time in days, she’s alone and she doesn’t know what to do. Being cooped up in a hotel room with her thoughts and silence is the last thing she wants, but here she is.

Tessa thinks she can hear time creep along. She doesn’t think about the big, fat wet tears the boys cried when she and Aimée prepared to load up into the jeep. She doesn’t feel the tiny hands, clutching her tightly as she hugs them goodbye. She doesn’t hear Tuba, asking Can I keep you? and Will I always be your noble prince? She doesn’t feel Isaiah’s short puffs of breath against her neck, too overwhelmed to say anything other than Don’t-don’t-don’t go. Don’t go.

No, she doesn’t think about any of that.

She doesn’t think about the forever-long ride in Henri’s jeep, sitting in the far back with Harbuu while Aimée lay in the backseat and Peter in the front, keeping a watchful eye on his charges. She doesn’t think about how hard it was to actually part from Aimée when they took her to the hospital to have surgery on her ankle.

She does everything in her power to think of anything but all that, because it hurts, and she’s done too much of that lately.

She runs her fingers along the long, gauzy mosquito netting, walks out on the balcony, watches guests swimming in the large pool. She picks up her phone, but doesn’t know who to call so she drops it in her bag and paces around the room, feeling increasingly restless. She turns on the TV, but shuts that off moments later, finding everything about it unpleasant. She can hear people down the hall, the faucet in the shower dripping; and the fan squeaks every third rotation.

Absently she wonders if Isaiah remembered to brush his teeth and if Tuba read the book she left behind before he went to bed. She wonders if they ate well or if they didn’t eat much, like her. She wonders if they miss her as much as she misses them.

The only thing she can think about is that stupid notebook in her bag and the fact that Sister Rosa is dead because of Michael and the things he did. In a moment of pure boredom and weakness she nearly cracks it open, but a knock on her door breaks her fixation.

"What’s up?" Tessa asks Henri as she leans against her doorjamb, crossing her arms.

"Nothing, I was heading downstairs to get a drink. Want to join me?"

"Not really," she offers an apologetic smile. "Thanks though. Where is Peter?"

"Downstairs. He’s always wanted to swim in that giant pool."

"Huh," Tessa nods, surprised. "He doesn’t strike me as a swimmer."

"Yeah, he gets that a lot," Henri grins. "Aimée called and said she’s got her sponge bath and feels much better. She wanted me to tell you that you still owe her phone credits or something."

Tessa rolls her eyes. “She is never going to let me forget that.”

"Hey, you saved her life, I think you’re good."

"I did not. I didn’t…" Tessa shakes her head, not wanting to think about the past week for at least five minutes. Biting her lip, she glances up at Henri who’s frowning, staring at the ground.

"You did though," he says softly. "You saved her life. You saved all their lives."

"That’s a bit extreme," Tessa shoots back quickly. "I helped get them to safety. There’s a difference."

Henri looks as though he’s about to protest, but the look on Tessa’s face brooks no argument. He gives her a placating smile, holding up his hands. “Okay then. Got them to safety. Can I still thank you though? For… for everything?”

"Sure, I guess," Tessa replies, feeling foolish. Before she can say anything more, Henri crushes her in a tight hug, arms wrapped around her securely.

"I’m so glad you’re okay, I don’t know what…" he doesn’t finish, just burrows his head into her neck. She smoothes her hands along the flat of his back, gliding softly over every tense muscle. Eventually they pull apart and Henri reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, giving her a warm smile. They watch each other for a few moments, the air growing thick and electric.

Henri’s gaze falls to her lips, then back to her eyes, drawing a fraction closer. But something inside him halts his progress, causing him to pull back and tighten his fists. “Sleep well, Tessa. Peter’s room is that way, and mine is this way if you need anything,” Henri points to their location then turns back to Tessa. “Seriously. Don’t hesitate for a moment.”

Nodding, Tessa watches as he backs away, turning for his room. Shutting the door, she leans against it for a few moments, feeling flushed and acutely aware of her heart beating rapidly. She glances around her empty room and empty bed, hears that damn faucet drip again and makes a split second decision. She opens the door where Henri has returned, his arm raised to knock.

She cocks her head to the side, eyebrow arched. He lowers his hand, smiling sheepishly. Slowly, he reaches out and takes her hand and kisses the back, much like he did the first time he met her. She’s reminded of that night, of him cooking in the kitchen in London, how chilly it was outside, how preoccupied she’d been. But now, she’s not preoccupied. Now, it’s just him and absolutely nothing else to distract her.

She runs her hand along the scruff on his jaw, softer than it looks. He shuts his eyes and sucks in a breath as she steps closer, closer, there. When they kiss this time, they don’t stop. No, they keep kissing until he walks her backwards to her bed, lifting her small body and placing her with care, aware of her bumps and bruises. Clothes are shed quickly, and she can’t help but grin as he pulls a condom out of his wallet.

"A little cocky don’t you think?"

"What kind of educator would I be if I didn’t practice what I preach?" He arches an eyebrow in reply, leaning down to kiss her softly.

The first time is gentle and good in the same way that scratching an itch is satisfying. Then sleep overtakes them, but she wakes later that night to the sound of a door slamming and can’t get back to sleep. She turns on her side and watches him sleep, the sheet barely covering his lengthy form. When she reaches over to cover him better, he stirs, cracking his eyes open. As with all smart men who wake to a beautiful woman in his bed, he takes advantage of this.

The second time is the best goddamn life-affirming sex she’s ever had. Because holy shit, she made it. She. Made. It. A shower soon follows, then lazy kissing and drowsing. They murmur into pillows and sheets at sunrise about what he plans to do in the upcoming weeks. She asks about what else happened after she and Aimée went missing, learning how hard it was for him and the others.

"I’ll never forget it. Jimmy called me, yelling so fast I couldn’t understand him. He told me to come quick and that it was bad. It’s just… I and the others got there and blood was everywhere. Everywhere. More than what two people could make. We think Michael didn’t go down without a fight…” Henri sighs.

“Jimmy hasn’t smiled in a week. He’s just… he’s a shell right now. And at first, when we couldn’t…” His voice cracks and he clears his throat, blinking hard. “We couldn’t find either of you or the boys… I don’t… I cannot describe what it felt like; it was awful. Horrible.”

Tessa reaches out for his hand, twines her fingers with his and kisses it softly. “I couldn’t think of what to leave behind without tipping them off.”

"When I couldn’t find Harbuu I figured something had happened, but you all had vanished without even a trail, and it made tracking you very hard."

"Yeah, we walked in the riverbank for the first day for that very reason. Blame my overactive imagination for that. AND, I almost got bit by a snake. It was… That was fun.” She frowns at the thought. Damn snakes. Stupid spiders. “Did you…ever see the men that did it?”

"No, they only operated at night time, and everyone was advised to stay inside. Pastor George stayed with us for two days, taking care of Sister Rosa and Michael’s funeral arrangements. He’s known them the longest."

Tessa nods, chewing the corner of her chapped lip. “When is the funeral?”

"A couple days after you leave. There’s an issue because Pastor George believes they should be buried on their land, but Aunt Okoma wants them buried with her. Family matters."

They fall quiet for a few moments, thoughts roaming as they stare up at the ceiling, the breeze fluttering the mosquito net. “I do have one piece of information that you might find interesting. Two things, actually,” he smirks, wrapping her hair around his finger, legs tangled. “Victoria, the little minx, has been dating a Ugandan Rugby player for the past six weeks, so I haven’t a clue what her tantrum was about. Second, she went back home to Canada.”

Tessa sits up, sore and surprised. “What? Why?”

He reaches up, drags his fingers along her bare back, raising his eyebrow at her. “Her parents were too worried. Apparently it’s a big deal when a two-time Olympian goes missing.”

Tessa narrows her eyes, frowning. “I never told you about that.”

"See, there’s this new-fangled device, called a computer, with this searching tool. Google, I believe. Not only that, but Victoria gave me a crash course of your impact on winter sport in your country. Ice dancing?"

"Ha ha," she swipes her pillow and smacks him with it. "So funny. Yup, you found me out. I do more than wear pointe shoes."

"You could have mentioned it," Henri says softly. "Is there a reason you didn’t?"

Flopping back on the bed, Tessa runs her fingers through her wild hair. “Yeah. I don’t like people thinking I got a hand out because I’m an athlete. I worked hard to get where I am, but no matter what, there are always people in my classes that think I used what little esteem I have to get ahead.”

"And you thought I would be one of those people?"

"No, after a while, it just didn’t seem important. Besides, how does one casually bring up winning a gold medal in ice dance, without sounding overwhelmingly pretentious?"

He nods, grinning. “Victoria explained it to me, but Ice Dance still sounds a little strange. Sorry.”

Tessa explains it to him in more detail, watching as he mulls over this information. “And is it popular?”

"Eh, in some areas, not so much in others. But Canada is a winter sport country, so we benefited greatly from that aspect alone. Obviously we aren’t as big a deal as hockey players or traditional ice skating, but it’s not like we’re curlers or something."

"Curling? You Canadians and your bizarre sports. Don’t mock the Scottish for their highland games then."

She pushes up and straddles him, her hair falling all around. “As long as you wear the kilt and those amazing knee-high socks, I wouldn’t dare.”

They remain in bed another hour where Henri decides to memorize and map every inch of her skin before she informs him that she’s hungry and breakfast is waiting. Priorities.

.::.::.::.

Scott gets out of the shower in Shannon’s bathroom and looks for his razor so he can shave his face. Frowning, he sees that she used it to shave her legs. Love does not cover irritation.

“Did you forget to buy new razors?” he asks, holding up his razor. She makes a face, frowning.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m going to the store in a few minutes anyway to pick up food for this weekend. I’ll get more.”

“This weekend?”

“We’re watching your brother’s kids. Remember?”

Scott frowns. He forgot all about that. He only recalls pushing back the dates due to Tessa being MIA and everything. “Right. Yes. Well don’t waste money on them. We can stay at my brother’s and eat up all his food.”

Shannon shrugs. “Sounds good to me. Either way, heading to the store now. Anything else you want?”

“A six-pack? I need to make a peace-offering.”

Eyebrows arched, Shannon waits for an explanation. “Me and Paul had some words the other day. I feel like an ass.”

“We can invite him and Sarah over for dinner, if you want,” Shannon replies as she starts the blow dryer. Scott shrugs in agreement, texting his friend. Paul replies shortly afterward.

“He says how about tomorrow night, instead? At their place.”

“Sounds good. Can’t be a late night though. I’m switching to days again.”

Scott frowns. He’s on the night shift at the fire station. “You do realize that means we’re never going to see each other.”

“Only for the next two weeks,” Shannon applies her make up as he sits on the counter, watching her. “Don’t worry, we’ll have this weekend.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Scott slides off the counter as Shannon pulls on her jacket and kisses him goodbye. “Oh, don’t forget to call your mom.”

Scott does as he’s told and calls his mom, letting her know all the details of Tessa’s phone call. By the time he’s through, she’s weeping and he’s rolling his eyes. “Mom, come on, it’s not that bad. Really. I’m sure she’ll come see you once she gets settled.”

After he ends the call, he takes Norma Jean out on a walk, letting her sniff everything in sight. It’s weird, returning to this life after he spent a majority of the summer in Toronto, then almost lost Tessa. Nothing seems quiet the same. He hopes that when she returns it’ll set the world to rights.

.::.::.::.

Tessa and Henri separate to shower, change clothes and eat breakfast with Peter. Afterward they visit Aimée in the hospital. When they enter the room, Aimée gives them a foggy smile and sits up in bed, pointing at the chairs nearby for them to all take a seat. Peter excuses himself for a moment to go review her chart, leaving the three of them together.

Aimée glances between the two of them sitting in separate chairs, and slaps the bed. “I cannot believe you two. Alone together for what? Five minutes? And you both are fucking like bunnies.”

Tessa’s eyebrows shoot upward while Henri leans forward, shaking his head. “Keep it down, will you? I won’t give you this biscuit I smuggled in if you carry on like that.”

"I’m just takin’ the piss!" Aimée’s eyes waffle back and forth between the two of them and she sighs, shrugging. “Fine. I just can’t believe you had the stones to go through with it, Henri. Good job.”

“Wow. Okay then,” Tessa smiles demurely. “I leave tonight at like… midnight or something. We’re going to break you out of here before I leave so you can come to the airport.”

“Excellent, I do so love a good break out,” Aimée replies flippantly, still a touch high on pain meds. “You do know they intend to release me tomorrow, right? I’m just receiving a load of antibiotics because they don’t want secondary infection.”

“Yes, that’s why Peter is coming with us, to ensure we don’t accidentally kill you,” Henri peers closer at her foot which is stabilized by an external device creating a halo around her foot. “What did they do to you?”

Aimée shrugs as Peter comes in, smiling. “They had to externally fix some of her bones so they won’t heal incorrectly. I must say Tessa, you might not think you saved her life, but you definitely saved that foot.”

Reaching out to squeeze Tessa’s hand, Aimée nods. “He’s right you know. You two should have seen her afterward. I think she was as pale as my sheet.”

“Hey, you’re the one who passed out.”

“Yeah, because my foot was pointing that way!” Aimée rebuts, pointing to the window. “Still, she was awesome. The boys though, they’re the true heroes. A little cranky at times, but I attribute that to being hangry.”

“Hangry?” Peter echoes, unfamiliar.

“Hungry and angry,” Tessa replies. “One of the American students used to say it all the time.”

“The one who always had a candy bar?” Henri asks. Having the role of supervisor does not allow for mingling as much with the students. They all nod, settling in to steady conversation. Eventually Peter rolls around to a hot topic: Tessa’s return.

“Aimée doesn’t have it too bad, because she’s staying here, but you?” Peter shakes his finger. “It will be challenging. I just ask that you keep a few things in mind.”

Thinking she is more than capable of handling her return, she prepares for a mini-lecture. “Please oh wise one, teach me your ways.”

“Look, I know you worked at the rehab center and have counseled victims back home, but how often did you deal with their families?” Peter shoots back, gently reminding Tessa of her limitations.

Frowning, she nods her head. “You’re right. Sorry. No, I didn’t give it much thought. Please, go ahead.”

Peter gives her a warm smile. “Here’s the deal, the first… two days, it’ll be all about you, what happened, what you did, how you’re doing. Make it easy on yourself, be open with them, don’t hold it in and explode later. You’ll become volatile and from my understanding, you intend to return to school shortly. You don’t have time for angst and depression. So share with your family. It’ll put them at ease as well.”

This will be hard for her. She’s never been particularly forthcoming in the past. Regardless, she does want this transition to go smoothly, so she nods as he continues.

“After that, it’s going to be all about your family and friends. How the possibility of you not returning affected them. Obviously if you have a limited number of close friends, this will be easier. Visit them, listen to their struggles like you’re counseling a victim. Turn the focus on them and it’ll make it easier for you, especially when you get tired of sharing the story.”

This is all reasonable advice, but it’s much easier said than done. Tessa asks Peter a few more questions, giving Henri and Aimée the opportunity to weigh in.

“What you guys don’t realize is that she’s well known in her country,” Henri notes. “Not famous, but you’re recognizable, right?”

“Yeah. I’m not sure if anyone even cared back home, though. The issue is that I was working for the non-profit and had the blog, so I had a decent following in my professional career, though many of those people are purely familiar with me as an athlete.”

“Right, I forgot. I was at dinner with Henri and Victoria before she left,” Peter says. “What is this ice dancing? Can we watch it?”

“Oh yes! Let’s watch! One of the nurses can tap into the wi-fi. She’s very lovely. I think she’s dating my doctor. You should see the looks they give each other.” Aimée babbles as Peter rises to find a way to watch some quality ice dance.

“Are you sure you want to watch?” Tessa verifies. “It’s… I mean. Well…” Tessa panics for a moment. She isn’t sure she wants them watching her and Scott dance. But Aimée seems so excited by the prospect that she’d just as soon cut off her hand than say no.

“If you don’t want us to watch you, then show us someone else,” Henri states. “Who won the gold the year you won silver?”

Well hot damn, that’s a sure fire way to get her to show them one of her programs. “No. Absolutely not. You can watch our short dance from Sochi. It was definitely a good skate.”

Ten minutes later, Tessa is fretting away beside the head of the bed while Henri and Peter crowd around Aimée who’s pulling up the clip on the nurse’s laptop. “Can we tip nurses? I’d like to. Because she was A++. I mean, we can tip people at restaurants —“

“Aimée, there’s the clip,” Peter interrupts, seeming just as excited. “Tessa, you look so beautiful. Your hair is so dark.”

Forgetting that her hair is easily 20 billion shades of who knows what, she gives a tight smile. “Yeah, it’s normally that color.”

Henri glances up at her, comparing the two Tessas. “I like you like this. It seems more you.”

She exchanges a loaded look with him as she and Scott skate into position, the music starting. She holds her breath for nearly the entire program, letting it go when they all cheer at the end, drawing the attention of some of the staff at the station nearby. It quickly dissolves into explaining what twizzles are and why they don’t do fun lifts and then Aimée starts clicking on other clips.

By then, a small crowd has assembled and Tessa feels like she’s going to regret this in about ten seconds because oh, look! There’s Carmen. And yep, Aimée clicks on it. Tessa tries to distract her, but nope, there are too many people crowded around watching, and she now feels like a sixteen year old on her first date and her mom is showing embarrassing childhood photos to her boyfriend.

Henri, sensing her distress, stands and asks if she wants to go for a walk. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They make their way down to the courtyard outside, taking a seat. International Hospital Kampala is private and as a result, much nicer than the public hospitals. At those locations, patients must supply their own bedding, sanitation, and often someone to nurse them. But this hospital is relatively new, well cared for, and decently staffed. The courtyard is beautiful, but the weather is questionable.

“So that’s Scott,” Henri states calmly, hands folded in his lap. This is a country that does not endorse public displays of affection, and Henri has acquired this trait over the years.

“Yep. That’s him.” The silence stretches on.

“What are you going to do about… about all that when you get home?”

Tessa glances over, shrugging. “Not much. I meant it before when I said I was over it.”

“Yes but…” Henri frowns. “You went missing, Tessa. I can guarantee he’s not going to want to maintain his distance.”

“There are some issues we need to work through before I entertain the thought of being friends with him again.”

Henri watches her for a moment. “Just friends?”

“Before I left, Scott didn’t just say no to a relationship with me, he said he didn’t want me in his life all together. We were best friends and dance partners. We ruined a lot of things that day.”

“We?”

Tessa nods, ruminating. “Growing up, we’ve always taken each other for granted, but I think I was the bigger offender. In the back of my mind, I always assumed he’d be willing to drop everything when I was finally ready. I didn’t take into consideration all the things I’d be losing by forcing his hand. Few people deal well with being backed into a corner and it was an impossible situation.”

“Sounds like you’re making excuses for his behavior.”

“I’m not, but I’m taking ownership of mine. Our relationship has always been indescribable and after a while, it takes its toll. I think when we move forward, if we move forward, it’ll be in a much more distant manner.”

“Have you figured that part out yet?”

Standing, Tessa holds out her hand, pulling him up. “Nope, but that’s something he and I will have to figure out together, if he wants it bad enough.”

They return to the room, finding it much quieter than when she left. “What happened?”

“After your panty-wetting stint as Carmen, we made too much noise and everyone had to get back to work, “ Aimée frowns. “Get out of here for a while, go buy some souvenirs or whatever and pick me up when you’re ready to go to the airport.”

The trio does as ordered, purchasing a few items at the Nakasero Farmer’s Market and returning to the resort for a late lunch. Tessa and Henri may or may not run into each other a couple more times before they collect her bags and load up the jeep, then swing by the hospital to pick up Aimée. The ride to Entebbe is quicker than they anticipated, giving everyone a chance to enjoy a light dinner before reaching the airport.

As with her last parting with Aimée, it’s soggy and wretched and Tessa feels like she’s leaving a part of herself behind. Aimée gets a kiss in, just for good measure, making Tessa roll her eyes as she wipes tears off Aimée’s face. She gives Peter a hug, thanking him for taking such good care of them and for keeping her healthy after the malaria episode.

When she takes a step back and looks up at Henri, she rolls her eyes at the serious expression on his face. “Make sure Aimée calls me after the funeral. I want, no I need you to check in on the boys this week. If you can, they left some books behind at… at Sister Rosa’s and I know they’ll want them. And don’t forget to give them the gifts I got at the market today.”

Henri nods all the while pulling her in for one of his bone-crushing hugs. She shuts her eyes tight and burrows her head into his shoulder, inhaling deeply, cementing this moment in her mind. Pulling away, she reaches up on her tiptoes and plants a kiss on his lips, then picks up her packs and heads inside the airport. She looks back, but only once.

.::.::.::.

Scott and Shannon have Tom over for brunch the following morning, smiling when he shows up wearing a bowtie and holding a bouquet of daffodils.

“Well Tom, if I’d have known you were sweet on me, I’d have put on my best flannel,” Scott quips, grinning.

Tom punches Scott in the shoulder and hands Shannon the flowers. “These are from my wife’s garden. Reminded me of you.”

Shannon gives him such a lovely smile that Scott feels his heart go ker-thump. Clearing his throat, he asks Tom if he’d like a glass of champagne.

“That’s how fancy brunch works? Champagne? I’ll take it. Scotty, I hope you made that French toast Matt was going on about a few weeks back.”

“French toast?” Shannon inquires, curious. She doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth so they tend to eat omelets.

“Yeah, I made French Toast at the station for the crew. Matt threatened to leave his pregnant wife for me. You know, the usual.”

“Oh that Matt,” Shannon smiles. “Such a charmer, that one. You fellas playing poker this week?”

Scott exchanges a look with Tom, shrugging. “Not sure. A lot of it depends on when Tessa gets back. My mom is already talking about having a big dinner.”

Shannon nods, handing Tom and Scott their flutes of champagne. “Tom, sorry, but no French toast today. Next time?”

Taking a sip of his champagne, Tom gives Shannon a winning smile. “I guess that’ll be alright. As long as I don’t have to cook, we’re set.”

The three enjoy a wonderful brunch out on Scott’s deck, watching as Norma Jean runs around like an idiot, chasing a butterfly.

“That dog is going to pass out in two seconds once she’s done,” Scott states as Tom nods in agreement.

“Reminds me of a bulldog I used to have. Titus was his name. Only dog I had that didn’t get sea sick. He’d stay in my stateroom and come up on deck when seas were calm. He provided hours of entertainment.”

“What happened to him?” Shannon asks, curious.

“Couldn’t swim,” Tom frowns, downing the rest of his champagne. “Last dog I took on a ship with me.”

Scott’s about to reply when he gets a text from Matt, asking if he’ll be at work tomorrow since he’s assigning duties. “Speak of the devil, it’s Matt.”

“What’s he want?”

“Shift coverage. I’ll be back,” Scott replies as he stands and makes a call. He chats with Matt for a bit, returning to find Shannon and Tom talking, two peas in a pod. Scott thinks that Tom has a little crush on Shannon, because he’s doing his damndest to make her laugh.

“Alright you two, break it up break it up,” Scott says as he settles in his seat. “Me and Tom got some yardwork to do this afternoon. I think Sarah asked if we could be at their place by six. Something about beer and fish.”

“Fish fry!” Shannon hops up, excited. “Yessssss. I’ve been begging Paul to do it for weeks! This is a day that will live forever in infamy!”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Tom quips, standing as he grins at Shannon’s enthusiasm. “Alright Scotty, lets get going.

Scott spends the next five hours mowing, weeding, and trimming bushes while Tom ‘helps’. He is definitely not winning in this arrangement. Just before he leaves for a quick shower and dinner, Tom grabs his arm and halts his progress.

“I just wanted to say that I’m glad your friend is alright,” Tom says quietly. “I didn’t like seeing you like that, kid. Don’t scare me like that again, okay?”

Watching Tom as he shuffles his feet, Scott reaches forward and squeezes Tom. “Promise. Thanks for that weird drink you made me. It kept me going.”

He waves goodbye to Tom then swings by Shannon’s and picks her up for dinner at Paul’s. For some odd reason, he still doesn’t tell her about his property. Another day, perhaps.

.::.::.::.

The flight from Entebbe to London is nine hours. It’s an overnight flight and just like the hotel, her accommodations in first class (thanks to Dr. Hightower) are lush. However, she is unable to sleep longer than twenty minutes at any given time. Sounds wake her, movement wakes her, someone thinking too loudly in the back of the plane wakes her.

When the plane lands at London Heathrow, Tessa glances around, observing a large handful of pale skinned people. She’s grown rather accustomed to only seeing clusters of colorful American students and the dark skinned. Bidding farewell to the kind, tired flight attendants, Tessa exits the plane and proceeds down the terminal of the gargantuan airport. She’s got a six-hour layover to sit around and ponder her life choices. Perfect.

But when she passes through a security gate, she’s flagged for a body search. Except not really because they wave her over to the side and instruct her to wait, firm but polite. Twenty minutes later, two men in plain clothes approach one of the clerks and nod assuredly, pointing to an inconspicuous hall to the right of security.

"Ms. Virtue? Hi, I’m Anthony Gaspillard with the Canadian Embassy here in London. This is Sergeant First Class Bobby Donovan, an American Soldier who used to work with someone you used to know. We were wondering if you’d be willing to have a talk with us."

Completely dumbstruck, Tessa glances at both of them, not firing on all cylinders after her long flight. Operating on default, she chooses creature comforts first. “Gentlemen, I’d love to. But first I need to see your credentials and then I need to eat some breakfast.”

The men share a look and provide requested documentation then agree to escort her not to a private room, but the nearby British Airways lounge, where a private conference room is obtained. Breakfast is provided and Tessa takes a long pull from her coffee cup, savoring the flavor. First sip, always the best.

"Satisfied?" Mr. Gaspillard inquires kindly.

“Very,” Tessa nods. “How can I help you?”

"First, let me preface this by informing you that anything said here will be confidential. We had to wait until you left Uganda to ensure your safety. Second, any and all testimony will be recorded. If at any time you feel uncomfortable with the questions, we can stop. Just be aware that we will have further questions once you return to Ontario."

Leaning back in her chair, Tessa nods, very well aware of her rights. She’s studying international law, for goodness sakes. She also knows her life will be much easier if she plays nice. Not only that, she suspects her difficulty sleeping is due to the notebook in her bag and wants to be rid of it.

Taking another sip of her coffee, she inquires a bit more after Bobby Donovan, ensuring he is who he says he is. Confident in his identity as Michael’s friend, she gives them a smile and lets out a breath.

"Alright gentlemen, where shall I start?"

Mr. Gaspillard looks at Donovan who clicks his pen once and grins back at her. “How about from the beginning. Tell me everything about the first night that you remember. The men, the vehicle, what their voices sounded like, any scars, weapons. Everything.”

She tells the story, in every nitty gritty detail she can recall. Because if there’s one thing she wants, it’s to ensure those bastards get caught and that her boys are safe. At the conclusion, she retrieves the worn notebook from her bag and pushes it across the table.

“Have you read this?” Bobby Donovan asks, reaching for it.

Tessa shrugs. “What would happen if I said I did?”

“I’d say that it puts you in a lot of danger and that you must never reveal what you know.”

Poker face on, she exchanges a weighted look with Donovan, both figuring each other out. “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t read it then.”

But later, when she rises to part with the gentlemen, placing a kiss on each cheek, she holds her position with Donovan for a moment, whispering, “If I were you, I’d find page 49 particularly interesting.”

Pulling away, she bids the gentlemen farewell and agrees to check in with the inspectors once she gets settled back home, in case they have further questions.

When she boards her flight for Toronto she feels exhausted. Rehashing everything took more out of her than she anticipated. Thinking about her arrival and hoping there’s little fanfare, she texts her mom, informing her that her plane is about to take off, and that she’ll see them soon. Also, please keep it low key.

The walk to the arrival terminal is quite possibly the longest walk of her life. Her shins are still sore, but it’s more the anticipation that’s getting to her. Once she exits security, she is immediately tackled by her sister, then picked up and squeezed so tightly by her mother that she fears she may pass out. It’s a gigantic family hug of tears and arms and lots of love. Plenty of love.

Too bad she feels so dulled to the sensation.

Pictures are taken, cheers are given, and there’s lots of clapping from passersby for some odd reason. Finally her family makes it out to the car and they pile inside, bound for Casey’s house so she can meet her niece. It’s not as bad as she anticipated, being with her family, because they’re all cut from the same cloth and understand how she operates. It’s everyone else she worries about.

When it came time for bed, no one even questioned where they’d be sleeping that night, it’s automatic that Jordan, Tessa, and her mom climb into her parent’s bed and her poor father is relegated to the guest room. By three, Tessa is wide-awake. She lies in bed, listening to her sister breathe, feeling her mother next to her. Warmth. Safety. Comfort. She hasn’t felt this in so long. This sense of protection. When she thinks about it, really thinks, she believes she lost it when she learned that Scott started seeing someone else.

Seems petty, but that day in London meant more to her than she realized. She was ready to move ahead. Truly ready. But he wasn’t. And she didn’t pay attention to that fact. In turn, she paid the consequences and will continue to do so.

Not only did her gamble lose her friendship with Scott, it lost her everything that a lifelong relationship entails: protection, reliability, trust. No matter what happens between them in the next few weeks, she knows deep down that things will never be the same between them. Ever.

Fortunately, she can safely say that she no longer bears any romantic notions towards him. Honestly, the thought of it makes her feel foolish and naive. Not only that, but she does have genuine feelings for Henri. He’s a good man. Too bad he lives over half a world away and is married to his work.

She dozes for a bit, trying to time her breathing to her sister’s. The sound of a phantom footstep wakes her, leaving her feeling unsettled. It’s five, a reasonable time to wake. Carefully picking her way over her mom, she pads over to her bathroom then downstairs to the kitchen. While she’s making some tea she receives a text from Scott, asking if she’s awake. He says he’s out front, with coffee and a chocolate-filled croissant.

Letting out a slow breath, she replies, agreeing to meet him outside on her back porch. She grabs a thick sweater, pulls up her hair and walks outside to the porch swing. Scott rounds the corner into her backyard a few minutes later, holding two cups and a brown bag.

After setting down his offerings, he stands in front of her for a moment, expectant and hesitant. Last time they saw each other, she was sitting on her front steps and he was walking away. Neither is immune to the parallels. Not one for standing on ceremony, he shrugs that 'I don't give a damn' shrug, and pulls her to him so close that their bodies line up and slot together.

She’d be lying if she said she hasn’t thought of this moment for days. Dreamed about it even. That doesn’t take away from the fact that she thought it might not happen. Because she wasn’t sure about him, about them, and he should know that.

Scott burrows his head into her neck, where his nose rubs against the curve of flesh and bones and her. She smells different. Not like laundry, or fancy, or everyday Tessa, but a Tessa who’s been on adventures. Dusty, sweaty life-altering adventures without him. It’s hard to wrap his mind around that reality that she now has life experiences to which he’s not even remotely privy.

He tries to sync his breathing with hers, but finds that he can’t because she’s crying and that never works. Pulling away, he immediately thumbs the tears off her cheeks before they can track down her tan face. Then she does the same to him and he laughs at the silliness of their combined tears.

"We’re a mess," he whispers, shaking his head.

"Won’t argue with you there," she replies, taking a step back. "How are you?"

Scott laughs, rolling his eyes at her casual approach. “How am I? How am I? How are you? You’re the one that’s been doing remarkable things!”

They sit on the porch swing, close but not quite touching. Whether it’s conscious separation, neither is willing to contemplate. He starts updating her on the past couple weeks, the job in Toronto, the houses he’s flipped. She’s quiet through most of this, absorbing his stories, storing them away for another time. He keeps talking, mainly because he knows what she’s going to say and he wants a semblance of normalcy before reality sets in.

"My brother was telling me about that industrial fire the other day. He said you guys were on site for over 20 hours? Crazy. Did you save any lives?"

Scott picks at the sleeve on his cup, small smile on his face. “Actually, I did. A couple. The fire ate away at the nearby apartment building. I uh… I kinda did something I wasn’t supposed to and took a big risk, but I got two little kids and their grandmother out, so it was worth it.”

"Risk?" Tessa seizes on this subtle admission. "As in you put your life needlessly in danger…"

Scott makes a face and prepares to hem and haw, but Tessa doesn’t bite. “Hey, if that’s what you want to do, go for it. But if you get injured or worse at work doing something like that without backup, don’t expect me to stand up at your funeral. You’ve got people that love and care for you, and the fact remains that a dead hero is still dead.”

She says it so pointedly, so matter of fact, that he is struck by the reality of what he did and the wisdom of her words. Granted, he’s gotten a bit more brash… more careless at work, but that doesn’t diminish the inherent risk involved. He keeps his head down, clenching his jaw, thinking for a moment.

"You know, you’re right. I uh… After I got back from Toronto, the guys were giving me a hard time for being a prima donna. I guess I just felt like I had something to prove. I don’t know."

Turning a bit, she pulls her legs beneath her to watch him. “I always thought if they were giving you a hard time, it was a sure sign to show they cared for you. I think you’re officially one of them. I think it’s admirable, and very you, that you saved those people, but hero complexes are dangerous. That’s all.”

He glances at her and nods, feeling both chastened but glad for her honesty. They sit in silence for a few minutes, not comfortable per se. There’s too much that needs to be said for them to casually meet up in the dark on a chilly October morning. Scott’s about to offer the first olive branch, when Tessa start speaking slow and careful, selecting her words with care.

"I wanted to apologize for what happened between us before I left. I don’t necessarily regret for telling you how I felt at the time, but it was very selfish and… disrespectful I think, to do that and expect something good to result from it. It was a hard pill to swallow, coming to that realization, but I can’t blame you for wanting to stay safe in a relationship that makes you happy.”

He watches her the whole time she talks, her eyes cast down as she plays with the edge of her oversized sweater. This is hard for her, saying this. But it’s just as hard to hear.

"I don’t think that’s something to apologize for, Tess," he replies just as slowly, quiet in the dim light. "I think it was brave to do that, but I wasn’t in the right headspace for you to tell me those things without me causing serious damage. Not just to you, but myself as well. For that, I am sorry."

He wants so badly, to know that they’re going to be all right, that they’re going to get past this. But a quiet apology the day after she’s returned isn’t going to solve all their problems.

"I know… I know the next few weeks are going to be really hard for you," Scott states, reaching out for her hand. "And I know there are things that we need to work through —" he stops, feeling the telltale slivers of scabs on her palms. He turns her hands over and holds them up for closer inspection.

"Your legs?" She used to do the same thing when they were younger. It was one of the only ways he could tell she was in unbearable pain, but smiling through it.

"Yeah, I…" she clears her throat. "We hiked a lot, trading off one of the little boys, Isaiah. The last day… Aimée got hurt and couldn’t walk. So I had to run the last of it by myself because…" she stops, trying to find the least dangerous sounding wording, finally she shrugs and lets it out quickly, too tired to care. "We were in danger and we needed to get to safety and didn’t have the time to spend getting there at a leisurely pace. So I ran."

"How far?"

She thinks for a minute, watching as he runs his thumbs over the half-present scabs. “I don’t have a solid number. I’d say thirty kilometers, give or take.”

Scott picks up on her forced reply, like ripping off a bandaid. He knows there is more to the story, but if she’s not willing to share it yet, he’s not going to force her. Backing off, he nods, but doesn’t say any more.

"I know there are things we need to work through, and that you’re going to be really busy and all. But I just want you to know that if and when you want to talk, that I’m here."

She nods, but doesn’t smile like he hoped. “While I appreciate that… I —” she exhales, frowning. “I don’t think that’s a good idea anymore. Us having a friendship is what causes issues in other parts of our lives. I think if we’re truly going to move on, we need to preserve some sort of separation. You being the person I talk to about all my problems and me being the one to deal with you when no one else will? We can’t be those people for each other anymore.”

"Do you really mean that? You’ve only been back for five minutes and you’re already cutting ties before you give us a chance?"

"I’m not cutting them completely. We can still have a professional relationship, skate, if you still want to. But it will make it very hard to have truly genuine, committed relationships with other people if we keep using each other as an escape plan."

"I’ve never used you as an escape plan," Scott grits out, trying not to grow angry.

She gives him a beatific smile, too wise for her years. “Yeah, yeah you have. And I’ve done the same to you. I’m not blaming you or punishing you, but this,” she motions between them, “needs to change. We’ve got to keep out boundaries. For real this time.”

Scott stands, needing his distance figuratively and physically. “I almost lost you, and now I’ve just gotten you back, and you… you’re done?”

"Lost me?" She scowls, narrowing her eyes. "What, was that week of no communication hard? Try two months!"

"Tess —"

"At least you know that I wasn’t communicating because I was in actual danger, not because I didn’t want you in my life," her voice is spiteful, like this has needed to come out for a while. She starts again, more controlled.

"I know that you regret what you did, but it doesn’t change the fact that you did it and that there are consequences to that. I don’t…" she shakes her head, lets out a wavering breath. "I don’t trust you anymore. I don’t feel safe with you anymore. We keep hurting each other and it’s time for that to stop."

He turns and looks out into her backyard, crossing his arms, trying to calm the thundering beat of his heart. She’s said these things to him before, but it was in the presence of someone who knew how to patch them back up. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. It was inevitable, this exact conversation. He just hoped that she wouldn’t actually go through with it.

"So no more friendship? Nothing?"

"I think we’ll get it back, eventually. But… like you said, there are things we need to work through and we don’t have a common denominator to drive that repair anymore. You wanted your own life, just like I wanted mine. But in the process, we made it really hard for us to have a niche in each other’s lives. From here on out, if you want me in your life just like I still want you in mine, then it’ll be because we worked for it and because we want each other there."

"I can tell you with absolute certainty that I want you in my life. I’ve lived the alternative and I never want to do it again," he says assuredly. He’s sitting on the swing again, facing her and trying to convey his sincerity with every word. "I swear, please don’t do this Tess."

She remains quiet, removing her gaze from his as she looks down at her hands again. He doesn’t let her lose focus. He reaches out, grabs her hands and twines their fingers, holding them tightly. Gradually, like a flicker of hope, her feels her thumb rubbing softly over his and he lets his head fall on the back of the swing, facing her. She does the same, watching him, memorizing everything about this moment.

He knows, just like she does, that this isn’t over.

Soon, lights come on in her kitchen and slowly they disentangle from each other. He taps on the brown bag, handing it over to Tessa. “There’s a croissant for your mom and a turnover for Jordan in there too.”

She grins, he knows them so well. “I wanted to thank you for the muffins and cookies. I ate way too many of those last night. But I can verify that there were indeed ten of each.”

He narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Sure about that, Virtue?”

"Okay, not at all. But what did you expect? You left something like that in my home. Of course it’s going to get eaten. Either way, I appreciate it."

Nodding, he smiles and holds out his arms for another hug as she rises. She steps into his embrace and they remain like that for an untold period. He could fall asleep standing like this if he had to.

"We’re going to be okay, kiddo. Believe that," he whispers into her ear, kissing her temple as he pulls away. He walks with her to the back door and says goodbye, leaving the way he came.

Tessa returns to her kitchen, sets the bag on the table and looks up to find her dad in front of the coffee pot, scooping the grounds in the top. He turns and smiles at her, putting the canister away. Slowly, she rounds the island and stands in front of him, quiet except for the percolator. Quietly, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. In the span of minutes she’s received hugs from the two most important men in her life and they couldn’t be more different.

She presses her forehead in the solidness of him, too short to hook her chin over his shoulder. His breathing is slow and solid, but starts to rattle in his chest as he holds her longer. Yesterday afternoon and into the evening, he was mostly quiet, just absorbing everything. She knew then, just like she knows now, that he was waiting for this morning, this time to share with her.

"How about you tell me something good while I make you some pancakes?" he whispers as he lets go of her slowly.

"With blueberries?" she asks, smiling as she pulls out the eggs and pancake batter.

"And chocolate chips," he replies, turning to the stove. Tessa slides onto a barstool and watches as her dad sets about cooking up breakfast for their family. She starts to tell him a colorful story about acquiring the goats, grinning as he chuckles, shoulders jostling. As she talks, she marvels at the giant stack of pancakes her father cooks up.

"How do you know the boys will be here?"

"If you make it, they will come."

Sure enough, twenty minutes later, Kevin and Casey arrive within five minutes of each other. Her sister and mother shuffle down soon after, and together, they all enjoy a semi-typical breakfast. When it rolls into sitting around and watching sports, Tessa is struck by how normal it all is, and for that she is glad. She’s already told her family that she intends to start school with everyone else the following week. Everyone has mixed opinions, but she’s not here for their opinions, she’s here for their love.

Later that evening, the Virtues host a large dinner for all nearby family to attend. It’s primarily a celebration of Casey’s child, Jordan’s impending nuptials, and now Tessa’s overall existence. Such a merry affair.

.::.::.::.


	20. 14.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a line he set down before she left and in it’s place, she constructed a wall.

.::.::.::.

Early, too early for normal humans to be awake, Tessa heads to the ice rink. She's only been back a couple days, but already, she feels the pull of the ice and knows this is where she needs to be. Friend and family visits (good, but taxing), a school physical at the doctor (blech), a quick drink with Scott (slow-progress; he seems distracted, she’s hesitant), and she's about to go insane.

Tessa needs the chill, the breeze, the burn and stretch of being on the ice. It's open at four, but she waits until five, trying to remain somewhat normal. She's concerned that her sleeping hasn't improved yet, but she hopes it will get better with time.

Mid-week and the rink is blissfully quiet, as most lessons won't start until six-thirty. Even then, she believes it's the synchronized dancers, which means it'll be Carol and Alma at the rink first. One of the morning managers welcomes her with a quick hug and a smile, telling her she has all the time in the world.

Going through her stretches, she feels her body slowly start to wake up as she feels the familiar strain of muscle. Pulling on her skates, she glides out onto the ice, weaving around in a haphazard fashion. She plugs in her music and starts to move about on the ice, picking up speed. Over the summer, she stored away in her mind (and secretly, when no one was looking, she would dance around in the courtyard) a bit of footwork that she'd like to try, needing a venue such as this to give her the opportunity to attempt it.

By the time she nails what she's been imagining, she hears a soft clap from the boards and looks up to see Scott's mom giving her a watery smile with red-rimmed eyes. She skates over and receives the hug only Alma Moir can give: a whole-hearted exchange of love. Tears are shed, many tears. They talk for a few minutes, concluding with Tessa vowing to come by for dinner the following evening.

"All right Tess, show me what you were working on," Alma requests as Tessa gives her a knowing smile. This woman has always been a stalwart supporter of any choreographic inclinations Tessa's possessed. Running through the set, Alma nods, giving it a critical eye. They go over it a few times, adding this and that as she moves about, taking in her suggestions and changing as directed.

Soon, the rink starts to fill and the little skaters realize that Tessa is on the ice and mild hysteria ensues. No one at a restaurant or a store would recognize her, but a munchkin at the ice rink better. Especially because her face is plastered next to Scott's on a banner hanging from the rafters. Carol skates over and relaxes the horde, giving Tessa a chance to get away, waving goodbye to Alma and Carol as the ladies set to work.

Tessa decides to hit up an early yoga class before heading home to meet up with her mom and sister to run errands. As she walks inside, she receives a couple curious looks, but nothing pointed. Her instructor gives her quite the Namaste upon entering, making Tessa smile.

During a break, she nearly runs into a woman, apologizing quickly while sidestepping her. Tessa is struck by how vibrant blue the woman's eyes are, a contrast to her beautiful auburn hair. The woman seems startled, but nods with a smile, taking a swig from her water bottle before returning to her mat.

When Tessa arrives at home, it's a quick shower and they head out again, in search of Jordan's wedding dress. It's an absolute nightmare from start to finish. By the time they get home, Jordan's about ready to shoot someone.

"I'm just going nude, straight up. Just a veil and flowers," she growls as they enter their home. Tessa tries not to laugh, but fails. This only exacerbates Jordan's ire.

"Perhaps some nipple tassels? Those would make it much more tasteful!" Tessa dissolves in laughter, thinking about all the dresses Jordan tried, how comical her face became as time wore on.

"Laugh it up, Tessa. Laugh. It. Up. I'll remember this when you go dress shopping for your wedding, just you wait."

"At this rate, I'll be forty before a worthwhile prospect comes along," Tessa sighs. "Listen, we'll look around in Toronto tomorrow before we go apartment hunting. Don't worry."

Jordan rolls her eyes, opening up the freezer and pulling out a pint of ice cream. Tessa nods as she grabs two spoons and sidles up to the counter. They commence obliterating the ice cream, savoring each and every bite. A dissenter of Tessa’s decision to return to school so soon, Jordan laments this fact again, provoking a back and forth squabble before they set to devising a plan of attack for the following day.

If they learned anything from today, it's that Jordan can only handle about eight dresses before she is ready to dissolve into tears or rip the fabric apart. Perhaps nudity is the best option.

Once complete with the search, Tessa leans her head on Jordan's shoulder. She lets out a long breath, enjoying the comfort of having her sister near. Her energy levels haven't returned to what they once were, and she finds herself more easily fatigued by human interaction.

"You okay?" Jordan asks softly, deftly switching gears as she grabs Tessa's hand, pulling her closer. Tessa nods automatically, chews her lip, and then shakes her head ‘no’.

"They buried Sister Rosa yesterday," Tessa rasps quietly. "Aimée called me early this morning, crying. She's with the boys right now."

Jordan reaches over and pulls out a plush blanket and covers them both, hunkering deeper into the sofa. She remains quiet, waiting for Tessa to work out what she's feeling, slow and methodical. Jordan has observed that Tessa has become prone to falling into lapses of silence — the kind where she's present in person, but not in mind. She wonders where her sister goes during those times, and what it is about the present that cannot keep her attention. Maybe it has something to do with the little boys she left behind, maybe not. Jordan knows that plenty happened during Tessa's journey that she isn't talking about. She only hopes that Tessa will find someone worthy of being her confidante, and soon.

"I just... I didn't think I'd miss them this much," her voice is tight as a lump forms in her throat. "Sister Rosa and them. Those two boys, they're... they're everything."

They remain cuddled together for warmth and comfort. Occasionally Tessa talks, sharing random stories of the boys — of Tuba playing soccer or attempting a death-defying act, of Isaiah and his collection of rocks and flowers. She never realized how much of them became a part of her, but she finds herself looking at tree leaves and different insects the same way as Isaiah, feels the same excitement over a coke as Tuba. 

But the stories about Sister Rosa? She keeps those tucked away in the casket of her heart.

Not wanting to talk of it anymore, Tessa changes subjects. "I uh... I was talking to my agent Tony, yesterday. He said there have been several news organizations that have reached out, wanting to hear the story. I was just going to post a blog and be done with it."

"A blog post could work, but… Tess, you were all over the news. I don’t know if —“ Jordan frowns, thinking about how every time she'd turn on the TV she was reminded over her sister's status very quickly. "I mean, I'm not sure how it was in other parts of the country, but here they just... They wouldn't shut up."

"I'm sorry," Tessa chews her lip again. "It never occurred to me when I was gone how rough it would have been on you guys. One of my friends, Dr. Nakato, had to remind me of what I should anticipate upon getting back. I just... I owe him an apology too, because he was spot on."

"Don't be sorry, there's nothing to be sorry for. Just be here, with us, when you're here."

Tessa leans forward, shaking her head. "Be present, you mean?"

"Yeah, exactly."

Frowning, Tessa returns to her position. "You're not the only person that's told me that before. What is it that I do that makes people think I'm not here?"

Grinning, Jordan explains her earlier thoughts to Tessa, who makes a face of displeasure at learning the nature of her concern. 

"It's just... when I get quiet like that, it's just like dad. I like to think about things first. I've never been the quickest on my feet. You know that."

"Funny that you should use that analogy, twinkle toes."

"You know what I mean."

"That's just it, Tessa. People don't look to you and want silence. They want you to take a stand and be firm. This whole… situation, is a perfect example. Now isn’t a time for sinking into a corner chair and contemplating. If you come out with something, be bold and forthright. Don’t leave room for doubt. Personally, I'd avoid TV interviews, too much can happen and they could put you in an awkward position. If anything, just give an exclusive to one magazine or newspaper and be done with it. One interview, one source, one story, boom. Done."

Ruminating over Jordan's words, Tessa nods. This makes sense. She likes everything about this approach. She also thinks a magazine would be better. Do the interview now, hopefully it won't come out for a few months after her classes have already settled down... yes. She likes this plan a lot.

"There's one other thing that Tony mentioned. He said that one of the designers wants me for their spring campaign. I've been thinking that any money I earn can be used for the boys. To sponsor their education."

Jordan ponders for a moment. "Are you sure you want to commit to that? Keep in mind, once you start, you'll have to sponsor their whole education, for the next, what? Ten to fifteen years? You can't give them a good education one year, then remove your funding because you're strapped financially."

"That's why I'm thinking of doing the campaign. It doesn't pay great, but... everything I get will go into an account for the boys. If I don't touch it and let it accrue interest... It should cover them for the next several years until I start generating my own funds."

"It's not a bad idea, just make sure the family is okay with it, and that it'll get them a good education without compromising their family ties."

Tessa nods, having had a long discussion with her parents and Jordan the previous evening regarding the challenges she faced with the goat exchange, private schooling, and parents in general.

"We've got to figure out what to do about your welcome back party," Jordan frowns. "It was going to happen last week, but you had to go on a little excursion and throw off all our plans," she says cheekily. Tessa turns and bites Jordan's shoulder playfully, smiling as Jordan yelps. They wrestle for a few minutes until they settle in a glomp of limbs on the floor.

"How about the weekend before I leave? You can come up from school for the weekend, hang out, hug on people, assure them of your safety, then retreat to the confines of your education in your lofty tower in Toronto."

"Weekend after next? Sure." Tessa stretches and lets out a yawn. "Lets take a nap before we go visit the cutest niece on the planet."

Nap they do, curled up nice and tight on the couch. When their dad arrives at home, he takes a picture and makes it his background on his laptop.

.::.::.::.

“You happy to have Tessa back?” Matt asks as he and Scott sit in the kitchen after cleaning up from breakfast at the fire station.

“Yeah! Of course,” Scott gives Matt a puzzled look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No reason,” Matt shrugs. “It’s just that I remembered how excited you were when she came back from London, but this time, you’re less excited puppy and more like... tolerant cat.”

“Which is to say you don’t think I’m happy to have her back?”

Matt frowns, running his hands over his recently buzzed hair. He has plenty of thick hair, however it’s starting to grey at the temples and he's not pleased. Leaning back in his chair, he gives Scott a measured look.

“You’ve been acting a little off ever since she left for Uganda. I thought it’d get better once she came back.”

“Off? Off, how?”

“Shoot, Scott, I don’t know. Less attentive. Less… what’s that word —“ Matt snaps his fingers, searching for it…”Ah right. Chipper. You’ve been less chipper.”

“Wow, went back to your eighth grade vocab reader for that?”

“Shut it,” Matt sips his coffee, bitter and black. “Did something happen between you and Tessa before she left?”

Scott’s gnawing on a swizzle stick, staring at the tan liquid in his cup, deliberating. “We uh… we had an argument before she left and it didn’t end well. We….” Scott pulls the stick out of his mouth and clears his throat. “We… uh didn’t talk for two months. And when I finally caved in and tried to speak with her, she told me she wanted more time.”

Scott chances a glance up at Matt who’s giving him a hard look. “What did you do?”

“Me!? It was Tessa!”

“Then why did she need more time?”

Scott waffles, trying to explain without having to go in great detail. Other than Shannon, he hasn't really shared the particulars of his and Tessa's argument and it's starting to take it's toll. Not coming to an alternative solution, he sits up in his chair and leans forward, talking quietly.

“Listen, what I say needs to stay between us, okay?”

Alarmed by Scott’s sudden seriousness, Matt nods his head, leaning forward as well.

“When we went on tour in the spring, we both kinda slipped up and almost hooked up.” Matt gasps dramatically, causing Scott to glare and shake his head. “Going on tour is weird, Matt. It… has a way of making you forget about everything except for the group of people you’re with. Anyway, we… didn’t go through with it. The next morning, Tessa’s program got all screwed up and she found out that she had to go to Uganda for the summer in order to complete the first portion of her degree, otherwise, she would have to start over from scratch.”

“Start over where?”

“She never told me, but I looked it up later. She had choices in two other schools within the country, the others would have taken her abroad. She happened to get into Toronto because she’d already applied and been accepted the previous year. Anyway, right after she tells me all this, we have this huge fight about the fact that we keep screwing up each other's lives and I told her I didn’t want to skate with her anymore. That… essentially, I didn’t really want her in my life anymore.”

Matt leans back in his chair as though dealt a blow. Gaze fixed on a groove in the table, Scott breathes slowly, trying to ignore the way his throat his threatening to close up and the indignation coming from Matt.

“When I dropped by to say goodbye to her, she told me she was in love with me, and…I freaked out inside. Like… cold sweat, racing heart… it was bad. And I just sort of ignored her and said it was a good thing she was leaving, that it would give us a chance to reset. And then I left without even hugging her goodbye.”

Ignoring the look of disappointment on Matt’s face, Scott drains his cup, savoring the burn. “I told Shannon what happened, then I carried on like normal. Two months later, I broke down and emailed Tessa, but she didn’t want to talk to me. Even… even up til right before she came back, she wasn’t too… willing to talk. And then she went missing.”

After a minute, Matt speaks, “So did you freak out about her missing because you felt guilty, or because you were actually concerned about her?”

Scott sits up, ramrod straight and gives Matt a black look. “Guilty!? Are you serious? No, absolutely not. She’s… she’s a part of me,” Scott presses his fist to his chest. “I was devastated.”

“Scott, you didn’t shower for five days. After you came by the station and I sent you home, Paul said he found you on your property, chopping wood. You freaked out, buddy.”

“Is there a book out there somewhere on how to react properly when something like this happens?” Scott scowls. “How long have you been married to Kim? How long have you been together?”

“We’ve been together for twelve years,” Matt states with a hint of pride.

“Twelve years, “ Scott nods, “it’s a long time, right? Think of how you’d react if something happened to Kim. Me and Tessa won our first Olympics at 13 years together. I’ve had that girl in my life for twenty years. And not one second of it do I regret, but don’t think it was easy or that we didn’t struggle.”

Giving Scott a solemn look, Matt pushes away from the table and stands with his mug. “You’re right kid, that’s a long time. And yet, you still gave it up. You did that. You had that entire week of misery to make you realize you need her in your life. But what does she have? The memory of you telling her to piss off and a weak-ass apology on her return. Suddenly you want to be best friends again? No. It doesn’t work like that. You’ve got to work for it. Prove it.”

“Hey, I tried this summer. She didn’t want to hear it.”

“Don’t give me that, Scott. You didn’t try. The Scott Moir I know would have flown out there and waited on her doorstep with a bunch of chocolate, explaining why he was such a chickenshit.”

“I can’t just do stuff like that!” Scott growls, pushing up from the table and leaning forward. “I’m with Shannon. I’m happy with Shannon.”

“Who said anything about romance? Tessa is your best friend, Scott. You gotta fix the core relationship before you worry about anything else.”

“Yeah and she’s the one who screwed that up by telling me she was in love with me.”

“And like you aren’t in love with her!” Matt shoots back, his eyes growing wide at what he blurted. The two back away, the truth in his words echoing in the silence. Matt walks out of the room, leaving Scott alone with his thoughts and bitter coffee.

.::.::.::.

The following day is a marked improvement over the previous shopping adventures. In one of the designer shops, Jordan finds the dress of her dreams, while Tessa finds two dresses, one for her fundraising dinner in November and another for Sarah and Paul's wedding.

Jordan's happy, Tessa finds an apartment in quick order, and they make it back just in time for Tessa to go over to the Moir's home for dinner.

Per usual, it’s loud and chaotic, full of delicious food and grand stories. Scott is absent due to work, but his brothers and their wives are there, as well as nieces and nephews. They're all particularly excited about Tessa's niece, whom she promises to bring by in the near future.

When she takes her leave from the Moir's home, she's fully loaded with leftovers for at least a week. Charlie helps Tessa hobble outside, completely stuffed and bearing gifts for Scott, who couldn't make it due to work.

"Tess, remind that idiot brother of mine that he's watching my kids tomorrow, will ya?" Charlie asks as he sets a large tupperware container on the floor of her SUV. "I mean, I don't think he'd forget because he's got pretty big plans lined up, but you never know with that guy."

Tessa smiles up at Charlie who's doing his best to act nonchalant about the fact he's over the moon happy to see her. She puts him out of his misery and wraps him up into a tight hug, whispering: "I'm so glad you were able to make it to dinner. It's been so great to see you."

She feels more than hears his breath shudder in his chest and burrows her head into his shoulder. "Oh dear, not you too. I can't cry anymore tonight."

Charlie laughs then, pulling away and swiping at his cheeks quickly to hide all evidence of emotion. "Our mom rubbed off on us more than we'd like to admit. That and everyone in this family has a soft spot in their heart for you."

Tessa rolls her eyes and punches him lightly in the shoulder. "I told you not to make me cry again!"

"Sorry, sorry," Charlie grins. "So I won't make it to your party next weekend because of work, but I'll see you at Paul and Sarah's wedding, sound good?"

"As long as you save me a dance, I'm set," Tessa walks around to the driver's side and climbs in. Charlie waves goodbye as she drives away toward Scott's. She texts Scott to let him know she's dropping by, and he replies with just got home, front door unlocked. She parks out front and grabs the bag his mom prepared for him, filled to the brim.

Tessa opens the door and is greeted enthusiastically by Norma Jean, who is waggling her little tush and tail so furiously that Tessa drops to the ground to ensure the poor dog doesn't twist herself to death. Norma Jean whines and licks and reaches up to Tessa for a near human hug, making Tessa laugh at Norma Jean's exuberance.

"Wow, she must have missed you," Scott says as he tugs Norma Jean away from Tessa, giving her a moment to breathe. "Woah, how much food did mom make?"

"She made all my favorites, so... a lot. I didn't realize I loved so many things."

"You should see how crazy Christmas has gotten. I forgot how overboard she goes. I'm pretty sure I gained a couple kilos last year.”

They move into the kitchen where Scott starts putting away all the food. "Want tea? Or water? I don't have any chocolate milk. Ran out two days ago."

"No, I'm good. Pretty full, actually," Tessa says quietly, taking in her surroundings. It's obvious a woman lives here. There are little touches of Shannon all over the place. Running shoes under the table, a magenta fleece hanging on the coat hook, hair ties on the counter.

Tessa is struck by the intense fear that Shannon is home and that she'll have to talk with her. She's come a long way in her feelings toward Scott, but she's exhausted after such a tiring day. She should go.

"Actually, you know what? I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. I'm just going to go."

"What?" Scott pouts. "But you just got here. Come on; stick around for just a little bit. Look at Norma Jean. Look at that face. Do you want to make her sad again?"

Tessa glances down at the dog who hasn't stopped staring at her since she entered. Norma Jean perks up with this new attention, licking her chops in anticipation. "That's evil, you know. Using your dog for blackmail."

"Not evil. Just effective," Scott replies as he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and slides into a seat across from her. "Have a good time at my house? Sorry I couldn't make it. We're short staffed at the station right now."

"No worries. Dinner was crazy, but great," Tessa fiddles with her fingers. "Your mom barely cried. It was pretty amazing."

"Yeah, that's because she did it..." Scott cuts himself off, clears his throat. "Yeah, she should have it out of her system by now. Enough of that though, how'd your trip to Toronto go? Find a place?"

"Yes! As a matter of fact, fourth one we visited. I had a set of very specific criteria and it fit all my requirements and then some, so I'm pretty happy with it. I'm actually moving in tomorrow. Classes start Wednesday."

"Wait, that quick? How?"

"I actually reserved several apartments a few weeks ago when I was updating my blog and had some solid Internet for a bit. I just had to cancel the ones I was no longer interested in."

"Smart, very smart," Scott grins at her. "Did Jordan find a dress?"

"Fortunately, yes. You should have seen her yesterday. That bridezilla reality show is no joke. I got to live it. Today though? No so bad. I think she took some anxiety medication or something."

"Paul told me horror stories of when Sarah was looking for her dress. Did you know she ended up getting another one?"

"What? No!" Tessa frowns. "I thought she was happy with what she had."

"Well, with all the working out she's been doing, she now has these amazing arms that she wants to show off, so she tried to get it tai—"

The front door bangs open and the sound of footsteps running inside stops Scott from talking. "Scoooooott! Have you seen my ID? Shit, I'm late. No, I'm not late. But I will be late. Dammit. I know I had it yesterday, have you —"

Shannon freezes in her tracks as she enters the kitchen and sees Tessa sitting there across from Scott. "Oh. Uh… Hi?"

"I saw you in yoga yesterday," Tessa sits back, head cocked to the side. "I thought, my goodness, she has the most beautiful eyes."

Letting out a sigh-laugh, Shannon gives a wobbly smile and starts rambling at the speed of light. "Oh, wow, Thanks… I uhhh, I just felt super awkward, because what do I say in that setting? Hi, you don't know me but I know you!? I don't... normally go to that class. The uh... the old lady in the back has outrageous gas..."

Taken aback, Tessa grins at Shannon's candor and complete lack of pretense. "Oh Mrs. Dumas? I know! I always forget about that and then I go to class and my senses are assaulted enough to remind me."

Shannon nods emphatically, leaning against the counter. "What about the woman who always dresses inappropriately?"

"That would be Dee. She teaches pole dancing. As a matter of fact I took a couple classes from her. She's remarkably limber."

"Oh I bet," Shannon laughs as Scott stands and walks over to the counter and picks up her ID near the sink, handing it to her.

"I have no idea how you keep losing this, but one day they might not let you in."

"What a blessed day that would be," Shannon sighs, shaking her head. "Sorry to interrupt. Tessa, it was nice to finally meet you. Welcome home, and if you get the chance, swing by the children's floor. I'm pretty sure they'd shit their hospital gowns in excitement if you showed up."

"Shannon?" Scott taps his watch.

"Right! Yeah, I know. Late," she waves at Tessa, kisses Scott on the cheek, taps Norma Jean on the head and speeds outside. Still standing, Scott turns and faces Tessa, letting out a quick breath in Shannon’s wake.

"So that was Shannon," Tessa states simply. "She seems lovely."

"She's also scatterbrained. I found her cell in the fridge two days ago," Scott sighs. "She has seven books lying around in various states of done. Maybe ADHD. Not sure. We'll see how she holds up when we go watch Charlie's kids.”

"Oh, that's right! I was supposed to remind you about that. Charlie also said that his good liquor is off limits to you. Something about the last bachelor party you two were at."

"Aw, he's still sore about that?" Scott frowns. "This was ages ago. I accidentally grabbed his eighteen year Macallan scotch and used it for punch."

"Scott! That's like... a two hundred a fifty dollar bottle of scotch."

"I know, I bought him three to make up for it." Scott sighs as he eases into his chair across from her. "So when does Jordan leave?"

"Monday after next. Which reminds me, we're having a farewell and welcome home party next weekend. Your family is invited. I mean, you and Shannon are invited too, I just... you know. Lots of people from everywhere will be there. It will be insane."

"A crazy busy Virtue party? Where? Your house?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Tessa states primly. Her older brother once had a party when their parents weren't home. She still has nightmares from the day after. "My parents will be there, so this won't be like that one New Year's Eve party."

"That thing was insane," Scott smiles at the memory. "There was an ice luge, and then that girl started dancing —"

"On our dining room table," Tessa frowns. "Yes and there are still scratches in the floor from where the boys were playing hockey with my grandmother's ball of yarn."

They fall silent after that, thinking about all the crazy things that happened that night. That was the first time Tessa had walked in on anyone having sex. Fortunately it was in the basement and not her bedroom. She also remembers hiding out and locking the door because she just knew the cops were going to get called. Instead, Scott got her to open the door and they got drunk off jello shooters and mystery drink in red solo cups. They fell asleep on the floor in her bedroom, staring at a poster of one of her favorite ballerinas.

She glances up at Scott who has his arms crossed, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Tessa knocks his knee with her foot. "What's up?"

"Nothing, that's uh..." he sighs. "That's not how I wanted you and Shannon to meet. I wanted us to all go to dinner and have layers of interference if things got awkward."

"Scott," Tessa quirks her eyebrows, chagrined. "We're both big girls. I think we can handle it. Besides, I don't have the time or the energy to fret over meeting your girlfriend. It's good that we got it out of the way. But don't make this a bigger deal than it is."

Tessa pushes away from the table to stand, not really in the mood to sit around and small talk. "I'm going to head home. Have a good night."

Scott stands and follows her, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Do you... I dunno, do you want to get an early breakfast tomorrow morning before you guys take off?"

Tessa's gut reaction is to say no. Say no with every fiber of her being. It shouldn't be this easy for him; he doesn't deserve it. He should have to work for it. Instead of relaying her petty thoughts, however, she gives him a non-committal shrug. "Sure. I guess so. Text me when you're awake."

"Me?" Scott arches his eyebrows as he calls out after her retreating form. "What about you?"

"Eh, I don't really sleep anymore. See you tomorrow," she climbs in her SUV and gives him a quick wave then pulls away. When she reaches the stop sign far up the street, she stops for an excessive period of time, trying to calm the frenzy in her chest. It wasn't bad, meeting Shannon. That didn't mean it was easy.

.::..::..::.

A week later and the talk with Matt is still a thorn in Scott’s side. He thinks about it from time to time, in quiet moments, but stubbornly refuses to acknowledge that Matt was correct in his assumption. Instead, Scott plods along, doing everything to distract himself.

"How was the weekend watching the little people?" Paul asks as he and Scott sod the backyard of one of their properties. It's uncommonly warm for that time of year and they're both working hard with long sleeved t-shirts on. 

"Awesome," Scott grins. "My mom made them capes, so obviously I needed one too. We went all over the place wearing our capes. Pretty much cleaned up all the crime in town, no big."

"Oh in Crime Central Ilderton?" Paul laughs. "Where the crime rate is negative four percent unless there's a hockey game? Nice. I hope you saved some poor old lady from having to cross the street alone."

"As a matter of fact, we did, thankyouverymuch," Scott grins. "Shannon tried to convince them that chores were fun. That was a much less successful endeavor on her part."

"I'm completely shocked by that," Paul pulls out his knife and releases another round of sod. "So it went well, then? Kids and things and you two?"

"Yeah, it was great, actually," Scott nods, thinking back over the weekend. "We had a good time, it was much more manageable with her to help me too. I have no idea how single parents take care of kids and work at the same time. There has to be a secret energy supply I'm unaware of."

"Maybe, but I don't think your brother asked you to watch his kids so soon because taking care of them is a walk in the park, either. What's uh... is there something going on with him?"

Scott frowns, breaking up a bit of earth with a trowel before laying the strip of sod. "Nothing crazy. He won't straight up say it, but I think their marriage has taken a backseat to kids and career and both were feeling it lately. They've been arguing a lot more, shorter tempers."

"No one said marriage was easy," Paul sighs. "I always wonder how the couples that have been together for twenty, thirty, forty years, how they do it."

"It's funny, I was listening to the radio," Scott deflects, deliberately disregarding the fact that he's 'been' with Tessa for almost twenty years. "One of the hosts is in his mid thirties and is single, says he doesn't want to settle, that he's holding out for that kind of love where he still wants his wife when they're fifty or sixty. Where he can still slap her ass and tell her she's sexy."

Paul laughs, shaking his head. "That's a bit unrealistic though, I mean. Think about it... That's disregarding changes in appearance, health, children, everything."

"That's what his co-host was saying," Scott replies. "That you aren't always going to love each other, that sometimes, you're actually going to not even like the other person, but it's your shared values and common goals in life, your investments that keep you together."

Sitting back on his haunches, Paul looks over at Scott and huffs. "That was beautiful man. Seriously. I think the co-host is right. I mean... me and Sarah? Sure, we love each other, but... it's more than that. We know how many kids we want, we know we want to raise them Christian, we agree about schooling, we have the same approach to Christmas and birthdays, where we'd rather have shared adventures than gifts..." Paul shrugs. "I mean, I knew all that stuff pretty early on with her, because why invest your heart if you can't answer the hard questions, right?"

"Sure, I agree completely," Scott nods, smiling. Inside he's panicking. He has no idea about any of that with Shannon. They tend to live in the present and any time he brings up more long-term commitment discussion, she tends to deflect. Granted, she did get out of a divorce just over a year ago, but still. Sooner or later, they're going to have to talk about these things. He just wishes he'd been smarter about his approach. They commence work again, leaving Scott to his thoughts.

That stupid dream has come back too, the one with the kids, except he can never see their faces. It's different too. This time they're outside in the heat of summer and it's the little girl. She's wearing a tiny little one-piece swimsuit with little floaties on her arms. There's a bright yellow ribbon in her auburn hair, perfectly matching the trim on her swimsuit. She keeps running to the edge, but stops just before she jumps in. 

"Daddddd," she always cries out. "I can't do it unless you go with me."

"Where's the fun in that? You've got to be brave, little one. Just run straight to the edge and keep running. Eventually, I'll teach you how to dive!"

His encouragement does nothing to convince her, so he changes his approach. "Alright, how about this? I'll dive in and you jump to me? I'll catch you."

"You promise?" her curly pony tail bobs as she peers down into the water. It's not terribly deep, but the bottom isn't visible either.

"I pinky promise," Scott reaches his pinky out for hers, which she shakes with all the solemnity of a three almost four year old can muster. "Okay Daddy. Go ahead. I'm ready."

He smiles at her moxie, diving into the water with nary a splash. When he breaks the surface, holding out his arms for her, she isn't there. The dock is empty and the sky is grey. His house, his beautiful house is still there, but it's shuddered up against the sudden coldness. Scott looks down and the lake is frozen, with him trapped and blue. That's how he awoke that morning, unsettled and alarmed.

Hours later, Paul and Scott bang into Paul's garage, exhausted after a full day's work. They drop their kit in the garage and grab a couple beers, clinking for good measure.

"Just think, bud. This time next month, you'll be married. How awesome is that?"

Paul smiles brightly. "Awesome. So awesome. I'm gonna have me a wife. A Missus Murphy. A bride. A —"

"Got the point there, Pauly." Scott bumps him in the arm. "So, while you're gone, do you need me to check on the place or anything?"

Paul shrugs. "Yeah, sure. Once or twice a week, grab the mail, make sure the deer haven't eaten everything in the garden. The usual."

"Speaking of that garden," Scott rubs his hands together. "I do believe you placed a wager on some of your late summer stock. Don't you owe me some vegetables, mister?"

"You are impossible," Paul sighs, opening up the side door of the garage. "Come on, let's head around back. Don't want to track mud in through the house."

The pair continue around the side of the house, stopping when they hear music being played. Music and laughter. Strange.

"What's that?" Scott asks, curious. "I thought Sarah wasn't home."

"I didn't even check to see if her car was out front," Paul says quietly, creeping around the side. He motions for Scott to halt as he peers around the corner, embodying James Bond at that moment. When he turns back to Scott, he's got his hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking with laughter.

"What? What's so funny?" Scott pulls Paul backward and does the same, throwing his head back and laughing at what he sees. It's Sarah and Tessa, dancing a waltz on the back deck. Well, trying to dance is the key word. Laughing with occasional body movement is more appropriate.

"I leave you alone for half a day, and this is what I come home to?" Paul calls out as he comes into view, halting Sarah's dance lesson. "I mean, hey, if you two want to keep on dancing, be my guest. I'm more than happy to watch."

"Oh hush," Sarah pouts. "It's not fair that you know how to dance and I don't. Tessa was teaching me so we could have a good wedding dance."

"You know how to dance?" Scott asks as he climbs up the steps behind Paul. "Since when?"

Paul glances back at Scott, shrugging. "I dunno, a while now. A lovely girl taught me, way back when."

Scott catches the fond wink Tessa gives Paul, not exactly surprised by this knowledge. He hasn't seen her since last weekend, just before she moved everything down to Toronto. She looks tired, but he expected that. Coming up to lean against the railing, Scott motions to the floor again, "Well, don't let us stop you ladies. Please, carry on."

"I can't dance if you're just going to stand there and watch," Sarah pouts. "Paul is an awful teacher —"

"Hey!"

"It's true! I love you honey, but no. Here, Scott, dance with me. Tessa, teach Paul something new."

"I see how it is, just tossing me to the wayside," Tessa smirks as she walks up to Paul. "What are we? Leftovers?"

"Obviously," Scott replies. "Sarah knows a fine specimen when she spots one. Can't help it if I'm irresistible."

"I wouldn't go that far, Scott. Wow," Sarah leans in and sniffs. "When is the last time you had a shower?"

Tessa and Paul both laugh as Scott sniffs his armpit. "Hey, me and Paul were slaving away all day so we could get that house ready to sell before the wedding."

"How much time do we have? A few weeks?" Sarah spins out, then curls back in to Scott. "Yeah, fat chance. Maybe when we get back."

"You're gonna be gone for three weeks!"

"I know," Sarah smiles over at Paul, who is dipping Tessa. "Isn't it magnificent?"

"Very," Paul replies as he pulls Tessa up and spins her around. "Alright, I'm ready for my big boy pants, teach me something exciting."

Tessa nibbles her lip as they dance around to the music, smooth and graceful. She glances over at Sarah who is learning quickly and will ready for her wedding debut with a bit more practice. "I dunno. What's your song going to be?"

"We've got too many." Paul frowns. "Different songs mean different things to us, so it's hard to choose."

"Okay, well what is the easiest one to dance to, then?"

They go back and forth on songs while Scott continues to teach Sarah basic steps and flares that make the dance look more challenging than what it really is. When Tessa tries to show Paul a specific move, he gets it, but only partially. She turns and tries to show him what he should do, but he's not quite picking it up.

"Okay, hold on a sec," Tessa places her hands on her waist and glances over at Scott who's laughing as he spins Sarah seventeen times. "Scott? C'mere a sec. Trying to show Paul something."

Scott comes over and in less than seven words, understands what she's talking about and immediately grabs her hand and does what she wants. Their shorthand method of communication may be baffling for some, but for those who are around them as frequently as Paul and Sarah, they're used to the strange brain wavelength Scott and Tessa share when creating. They do it a couple times for Paul before he gets it, but then Sarah doesn't understand and they spend a solid five minutes walking through specific foot placement.

"You're over thinking it," Tessa says softly to Sarah. "Here, watch me and Scott do it from the beginning. We'll tie it together for you and then you'll get the big picture."

Paul restarts the song and Scott grabs Tessa's hand and places his other on her back and seamlessly they move to the music, steps this way and that, in and out and together and slide. Halfway through the song she starts to feel that familiar sensation that she always gets when dancing: creativity and pleasure. She glances up at Scott and sees the same thing reflected in his eyes and smiles brightly up at him.

Not only that, but she doesn't feel a blessed thing toward him, and she is so relieved. No sensitive touch, no heat under his gaze, no prolonged grasp, just smooth, eloquent movement. This is the norm, this is the angst-free dancing she loves and enjoys.

All too soon, the song comes to a close and she parts from him and immediately takes Sarah's hand and continues dancing in a playful manner, just as before. Her delight is infectious as the four continue to dance, eventually working out a rough sketch of what their wedding dance will look like.

"I've got ground beef thawing if you guys want some hamburgers," Sarah offers before turning to Scott with a hint of cheekiness: "It's the least we can do for having our wedding dance professionally choreographed."

"You think you're sooooo funny," Scott reaches up to put her in a headlock, but stops when he remembers how much he smells. "I'll take you up on that hamburger, but how about we eat outside?"

Tessa glances over at Scott who is pulling his shirt away from himself like he finds the odor offensive. She walks over and takes a sniff, making a face as she pulls away. "Yes. Outside, most definitely. Paul, I hope you don't smell this bad."

Paul grins at them, shrugging. "Probably. It's genuine man smell that you've detected there, Tessa. I know it's a foreign scent on Scott. All that ice dancing has softened him up."

Before Scott can even form a rebuttal, Tessa jumps to his defense. "Sorry, Paul, when was the last time you lifted a woman over your head with only one arm while balancing on one leg?"

Sarah slaps a hand over her mouth, hiding her grin while Scott holds up his hand for a high-five from Tessa. "Oh Snap, Son! She tooooold you."

Frowning, Paul clears his throat as he pulls out the plate of hamburgers. "You know, I was going to say last night but I figured that would be uncouth."

Rolling her eyes, Sarah tosses a bag of buns at her fiancé while Tessa and Scott carry out drinks and condiments. The four continue their good-natured bickering throughout most of dinner, well into the evening. The overall tone of the meal is one of solid friendship and merriment, the kind many dream of lasting forever. Though each absently has the fleeting thought that it would be swell if they were all neighbors, the currently reality makes the thought a phantom whisper in their minds. As they return all the items inside after dining, they sit around the kitchen table a bit longer, chatting about anything and everything.

"Why are you even here, T? Don't get me wrong, it's great to see you, but didn't you just wrap up your first week of class?"

"Ha, thanks," Tessa rolls her eyes at Scott. "It was good, lots of introductory stuff the first day, then they told us that we've basically written our lives away and that we should be congratulating ourselves on making it this far and then they drowned us with reading and papers."

"Sounds about right," Sarah quips. "My older sister went there, did I tell you that? Such a demanding law program. There's a reason it's number one. I barely remember seeing her unless it was a holiday. Scott's right, what are you even doing here?"

"Wow guys, awesome, I can leave if you'd like," Tessa rebuts as they shake their heads in protest. "No it's just that Jordan is leaving to return to Australia soon and I'd rather spend the time with her. She stayed with me the first couple nights in Toronto, anyway. Besides, I've actually caught up on my reading. I do have a paper to write, but I figure I'll do that before I go to the airport to pick up some friends."

"Friends? Oh, exciting," Sarah replies. "Is this for the party?"

"Yeah, a couple of the people I worked with, really great people, wanted to come up to celebrate."

"That'll be great," Paul states as Scott nods in agreement. "Do they need a place to crash?"

"Tomorrow? No. I've got three coming into town, and we have that many spare rooms if Jordan sleeps with me, so we're set. Then they'll come back with me to Toronto on Sunday."

"Speaking of, how are these sweet digs?" Sarah asks as Paul and Scott lean forward with their elbows on the table, both interested.

"Good, really good. It's a two-bedroom in one of those super tall buildings with a doorman, plenty of security, state of the art gym, coffee shop around the corner."

"You weren't joking when you said you had specific criteria," Scott observes. "I bet it's also that new one they just finished this spring, and I bet your place is the highest apartment available and that it's not too bad a walk to get to school, or restaurants, either."

"Fine, fine," Tessa sighs, "you know me well. Yes, it does all those things. What's the point in living in the city if I have to drive everywhere? I doubt I'll do it again, so I want to take advantage of it while I still can."

"What, you? Not move to a city? What about Paris?" Scott's head falls to the side in thought. "Or New York... Rome. Any of those places?"

Tessa's brow furrows, confused. "Those are all great locations, but they don't exactly fit into my career path at this time. I'm considering staying local and setting up a Canadian branch of the non-profit. Right now, London is the best fit financially, so I intend to stay here once I graduate. There are plans to expand our outreach to different countries in need," Tessa shrugs. "But that's a ways out and I'm only just beginning, so I'll have to see what happens."

"Only just beginning," Paul chuckles. "Says the woman who's been in school for the past eight years."

"You know what I mean," Tessa frowns. The group continues to talk about their winter plans and Scott's big job with CBC. He’s thrilled, but there are a lot of logistics he has to work out and he hasn't had the time to make it happen yet. 

Tessa's support of his new job is surprising, but then again, she's always been supportive of all his endeavors. He's not sure why he expected her reaction to be any different this time. She's been a lot better about this whole reconciliation thing he's working for than he (or Matt) thought she'd be.

Tessa still replies when he sends dumb texts, but he cannot deny there is a clear and present boundary she's constructed between them. There is a line he set down before she left and in it's place, she constructed a wall. There will be no toeing of the proverbial line, so to speak.

A yawn from Tessa draws Scott's attention, aware that they should head back soon. "How'd you get here? Did Sarah drive you?"

"Yeah, we met up for coffee and then... mysteriously it's evening and yeah," she hunkers down in her seat, shoving her hands in her pockets. She fatigues quickly these days. “Sleep. Soon."

Scott grins as he glances up at Paul who is rolling his eyes at her. "I hereby nominate Scott to drive you home since it's late and Sarah has horrible night vision."

"I do not!"

"Oh and that light post really looked like a deer?" Paul is referencing a near accident she had a few weeks ago.

"IT HAD EYES!"

"And a giant sign plastered to it as well, I reckon," Scott quips as he pulls Tessa's chair away from the table, tapping her lightly on the back. "Come on sleepyhead. I'll drop you off at home."

They bid Sarah and Paul good night then climb inside his truck. Tessa assumes her usual position of sleeping when in the car, making Scott grin as he glances over at her. "Make some noise once in a while, otherwise I'll forget you're in here."

Tessa snorts in response and continues to sleep. Thirty minutes later, he pulls up in front of her home, putting the car in park. Dead to the world, Tessa doesn't budge. In the past, he's been known to prank her for this type of rudeness, but he'll give her a pass since she looks so peaceful. Not that he's staring or anything. Because that would be creepy.

"T-swizzle. You need to wake up, kiddo. You're home," Tessa cracks open an eye, then the other, scrunching up her nose as she sits up and yawns.

She gives Scott a bleary smile and opens the door. "Thanks for the ride. I had fun today. We should do that dancing thing again. But you know... On ice."

Scott's heart shoots towards the sky at that moment. Finally, an actual step forward. "There is that Christmas show coming up... Name the time and place and I'm there."

"Let my schedule settle and I'll keep you posted," she replies as she slides out, reaching out her hand to slap his familiarly. "Niiight."

"Night." He watches as she walks up the drive to her front door, then inside. His hand still tingles from the quick handshake, but it's the comforting tingle of one who has settled into a place of familiarity and peace.

In that moment, he decides that Matt was wrong. He loves Tessa, but he’s not in love with her. He’ll always love that girl, but he doubts in a way that’ll go beyond platonic. At least, not any more.

Driving home, Scott's mind settles. The previous week at work was pretty tame for Scott. He saw Shannon very little as she's been on the opposite schedule as him, but he's not sure he minds. She said something while they were watching his brother's kids the previous weekend that was a passing comment, but his mind won't put it to rest. Something like, "the best thing about watching other people's kids is being able to return them once you've gotten over the inclination."

He laughed it off at the time, but it's become something of a concern for him. They've never had the talk about kids, but she's so great with them. He's always assumed that she wants kids... sooner or later. Being a doctor is challenging enough without kids and she's made no secret that her career is her priority, but that doesn't mean kids are completely off the table. At least, that's what he hopes.

The following evening is the party at the Virtue's home. Scott can't deny being somewhat anxious. His family will be there as well as Shannon. He suspects that it will be a large party and her presence won't be too much of an issue. That and both she and Tessa handled their impromptu introduction well.

If Shannon means serious business, she'll be able to handle this too, because it won't be the first nor will it be the last gathering that Tessa will be at. Who's he kidding? Shannon's mother is atrocious. Of course she can handle this. Still, he'll wait until things settle down a bit before he starts talking about more serious things, such as Shannon moving in with him, and the possibility of children.

Because there isn't an ounce of him that is afraid of what she might say to either. Not at all.

.::.::.::.::.

Tessa moves through groups of friends and family, mildly surprised at how well everyone is mingling. Victoria, Hailey, and Nathan have flown in to cap off the festivities. She wasn't too surprised by Victoria or Hailey, but Nathan asking to come was a shock. Then she remembered that he's an outdoorsman to the core and intends to go to Banff after his visit with her. Those three are meshing well, especially Hailey and Nathan, which Tessa takes secret delight in. Victoria is doing well, but Tessa can tell she wants to return to Uganda.

Ever since arriving at her home earlier, she's been filled with a faint sense of anxiety that she can't put a finger on. Perhaps it's the fact that save for a few highlights, she really hasn't shared all that much of her work in Uganda. Part of the reason is the look on people's faces when she brings up the summer. Most have a passing grimace; other's a feigned interest.

She learned from her second day of classes that no one cares much to hear stories about the type of work she did; competitive people feel the desire to one-up her, or have already passed judgment before she even talks. She’s kept her mouth shut and her head down because law-school is cutthroat and she has to tread carefully.

Victoria comes up to her and throws an arm around her shoulder, kissing her on the head. "This is like Christmas. I'm surrounded by ice skating royalty and random famous people. How do you even know some of these people?"

They chat for several minutes until Victoria touches on a topic that creates a tension in Tessa's shoulders that is remarkably uncomfortable.

"Dude, when... you should have seen Henri and Jimmy when they showed up at my place," Victoria frowns. Tessa would prefer to table this discussion to a time when less people aren’t around to learn of the particulars of her adventure. She's presented it as being much less scary and traumatizing than it actually was in hopes of minimizing the collateral damage. Most people believe her; however Victoria, who was present when the shit hit the fan, is quickly dissolving all Tessa's hard work.

"How about this," Tessa interjects quietly, aware that others are listening. "How about we talk about it tomorrow when I have less friends and family around to freak out."

Victoria frowns, "Why? You don't think they were worried here?"

"No it's just..." Tessa shuffles, sighing. "It's easier for me to manage all of this when they think it wasn't so bad for me. I'd rather them keep thinking that, instead of being exposed to the reality of the situation in which it sucked and we were terrified. I'm tired of the looks where others feel bad for what happened."

"But that's just it Tessa," Victoria grabs her hands, squeezing tightly. "It did happen. You're going to have to face it sooner or later."

"I am, I promise, just in my own way," she replies. "Besides, haven't you gotten all the gory details from Aimée? You know she's a much better story teller than I am."

"Actually," Victoria shrugs, "not really. She's being just as quiet about it as you are. Did you rehearse this before you got back? The whole, 'as long as the boys are safe, then nothing else really matters' thing? Because it's uncanny."

Tessa glances away, breaking eye contact. "For the record, no," she keeps her voice low, trying not to get irritated. "But you've got to understand — all we cared about for the duration of that... journey, was keeping them unharmed and getting them to their aunt. It was..." Tessa peters off, trying not to get worked up. 

"Sorry," Victoria pulls her close, hugging her. "Sorry, forget it. If you want, we can talk about it tomorrow. Lets enjoy your party, okay?" She pulls away, giving Tessa a feeble smile, also affected. "Don't you owe me an introduction to Scott?"

Tessa grins, rolling her eyes. "I knew you wouldn't forget. Just... don't get too handsy. His girlfriend is right over there talking to Joannie and Paul."

"Girlfriend, eh?" Victoria narrows her eyes, murmuring, "Suddenly it all makes sense." They weave through the crowd until they reach the kitchen where both Chiddy and Scott are closely scrutinizing a video on Chiddy's phone.

"Fellas, sorry to break this up," Tessa interrupts as they keep their gazes fixed to the screen until Tessa snatches it away, pausing whatever they're looking at. 

Scott blinks hard then gives Tessa a pout. "We were getting to the good part, Tess."

"Sincerest apologies," Tessa grabs Victoria by the shoulder and pulls her closer. "This is Victoria, she's from Calgary. She's a teacher based out of Kampala who works for the non-profit during the summer. I owe her a very large debt and you are part of my repayment."

"Oh am I?" Scott puffs himself up as he cocks his head to the side, smirking at Tessa. "Nice to meet you Victoria, welcome to London."

Victoria, for the first time in her life, is rendered quiet. Tessa shakes her head and bumps Victoria in the shoulder. "This is also Patrick Chan, who was kind enough to drive up for the weekend and take a break from training in Michigan."

"Like I'd miss this, Tessa," Chiddy frowns. He gave her the longest hug imaginable earlier, beating out Jeff's by a solid thirty seconds. Those boys sure did miss her; of that there is no doubt.

With a little wave, Victoria nods and gives a fluttery smile but keeps quiet. They look at each other awkwardly for a few seconds, at a loss. Tessa sighs and pushes Victoria in the direction of Hailey.

"Alright, I'm going to give you back your phone," Tessa states sternly. "However when Victoria comes back to her body and actually wants to talk to you, I expect you to be perfect gentlemen."

"Yes ma'am," Scott and Chiddy salute dutifully in unison. 

"Hey, perhaps this would be a good time to mention that I have blackmail photos of you two back from the visit to England," Tessa warns. "I am not afraid to use them."

"Oh, you have photos?" Chiddy smirks. "You have photos? Do you want me to break out my blackmail folder? I've got enough dirt on everyone in this room to —"

"You know what," Tessa shakes her head holding up her hands in surrender. "Carry on with your video, hope you enjoy it."

Tessa speeds away toward the safety of her mother and Sarah, who is describing her new dress in great detail. Exhaustive detail.

A bit later, Jeff and Scott corner her in the kitchen beside the seven-layer bean dip to discuss schedules and choreo for the winter show.

"Oh, so we're definitely doing that?" Tessa asks, slightly thrown. "Okay then. Uh well I have two conditions: I don't want cheesy, and I want it to be like... badass."

"I think I can make the not cheesy part happen," Jeff scratches his jaw. "You do realize this is a Christmas show, right? It will have inherent sappiness no matter what we do."

"Yes but —"

"What I think Tessa is trying to say," Scott intervenes, "we want it to be awesome, not a bunch of used-up has beens zig-zagging around the ice."

"Yeah, that too," Tessa nods in agreement. "We'll lock on dates that we can meet up? I know a couple other people that can lend some help since I won't be able to spare much time for choreo."

"Sure, sounds good," Jeff and Scott nod. The three finalize details and settle on top three song possibilities. Challenging, to say the least. Scott glances at Victoria who is chatting with Shannon and Hailey. "Your friends seem nice. Hailey thinks the world of you."

"The feeling is mutual," Tessa replies, glad to see Sarah and Meg wander over to Hailey. "I'd say all those people kept me sane, but Hailey especially."

"She said you were the site manager for a school?" Jeff inquires as he leans against the counter. "How exactly did you get stuck with that job?"

"Stuck with what job?" Nathan asks as her cuts in, bumping Tessa's shoulder. "The trip to the Lira District to teach HIV awareness? Or the one where our bus fell apart?"

Tessa bestows him with a fond smile, thinking back on that trip when the bus lurched to a foreboding halt in a mud pit on the side of a hill. The floor, already bearing holes, completely caved in. That was right after she met Nathan. That shared adventure certainly cemented a good foundation of friendship between them.

"Oddly enough, neither?" Tessa smiles at him as she motions for Hailey to come over. "Please share with them how I ended up as the site manager of the primary school"

"Oh this is excellent..." Hailey starts her story, smiling at Victoria who rolls her eyes. "So the original manager, Johannes, was up on the roof the first night..."

The doorbell rings just then, but someone goes to answer it. Tessa stands with Scott and many others as Hailey tells a colorful, slightly embellished version of how the primary school came to be. Tessa gives Shannon a polite smile as she also comes over to listen to the tale. 

Jordan walks up behind Tessa and hands her a package then goes to pour some wine. Tessa looks at the rectangular package wrapped in brown paper and twine, book-sized. "Where'd you get this?"

"A man dropped it off just now."

Tessa starts opening the package, stopping when she sees the contents: A familiar edition of The Four Loves with a photo sticking out of the front cover. She only glances at it: a black and white photo of her, filthy and lying on the ground using Harbuu as a pillow, Isaiah lying on top of her with his face burrowed in her neck, and Tuba curled up against her side, lying on her arm. It was from the last morning — the picture Aimée took before Tessa started running to Kitgum.

Blinking hard as the world around her comes into focus, Tessa shakes her head and turns to her sister, speaking quickly. "A man? What'd he look like?"

"Uhhhh, brown hair, brown eyes... Nice smile." Jordan puts the stopper on the wine, setting it on the counter. "He mentioned how much you and I look a like. What's in the — Tess?"

Tessa's already out the front door before Jordan is done speaking. She runs down the front steps and the stupidly long drive, past a series of parked cars. Stopping once she gets to the street, she turns one way and doesn't see anyone, but spots a lone figure walking the opposite way.

"Henri!" She calls out, halting his progress. Thankful for her shoe selection, she sprints to him in her flats, slowing when she's about twenty feet away. A smile creeps on his face as he starts walking toward her. They stop a foot from each other, grinning like fools.

Forgoing all pretense Tessa throws her arms around his shoulders, squeezing tightly as he lifts her in the air, laughing into her neck. When he sets her on the ground, Tessa looks up at him, outrageously happy to see his face. His hair is much shorter and he's clean-shaven, wearing slacks and a button-up shirt. It's him, but not.

"What... what are you doing here?"

He smiles at her bluntness. "I went to San Diego to see my daughter, then stopped in New York to talk with Hightower and go to several meetings, then... I don't know. I was so close to you, and..." he looks down and shrugs. "I figured I should make sure you're staying out of trouble. You know, professional oversight and everything."

Tessa gives him a coy smile. "Professional oversight, eh? You could have called!"

He reaches up and tugs a strand of her hair, drawing closer like a magnet. "Well, I do have business stuff to discuss with you… at some point in time. But that is not —" as he leans in closer, almost close enough for contact, Tessa remembers herself. She steps back, shaking her head, placing her hand on his chest.

"Sorry, it's just... we're in my neighborhood, where everyone knows me and we're standing in the middle of the street. There's a party at my house, and most importantly, Victoria is here."

Henri arches his eyebrows in surprise, but he doesn't let her go. "Victoria? That ... that is unexpected."

"She came for the party, as did a couple others." Tessa rolls her eyes at him and turns, pulling him by the hand. "Come inside. Say hello to everyone. It's pretty relaxed."

"I don't want to interrupt, that wasn't my intention."

"Well, you have to come now because my sister saw you, and then I ran out here like an idiot, so I know people are curious. Besides, you can get a free dinner."

She releases his hand as he follows behind her up the drive, weaving through the cars. "What about Victoria?"

"She's staying here at with me at my parent's house tonight. Her and Nathan and Hailey. So... there's that."

He understands her meaning, lets out a soft sigh. "I'll stay for a little bit, but I actually booked a hotel because... that isn't why I came to see you, so don't worry about it."

Glancing back with an impish expression, she turns to open the door. "Wasn't planning on it."

Once they step inside, Tessa takes his coat and hangs it in the closet, trying to ignore the way he's looking at her. She feels it in the center of her body, radiating outward all the way to her toes. When she turns, he's close behind her, too close and the air is growing thick and electric, like it always does. She lets out a puff of air and shakes her head, breaking eye contact.

"You can't keep looking at me like that," she murmurs.

He blinks hard, frowning. "Like what? I'm not used to seeing you with all this make-up and your hair done and... a dress."

"Yeah, I clean up from time to time. Come on, let's get this over with." Tessa ignores him and nods to the kitchen. "Good luck, by the way, you're going to need it."

She hopes people won't notice when they enter and she can just ease into the room. Unfortunately Nathan is standing at the island with several others who are looking at the black and white picture Henri dropped off. In her haste to get to him, she neglected to consider the power of that one photo.

It contained what was left of her poor heart.

"Henri! Hey man!" Nathan sticks out his hand to shake Henri's heartily. "What's goin —"

"Henri?" Victoria's calls from across the room, drawing any attention that wasn't already on the newcomer. "Henri! Wow, hi!" She walks up and wraps him in a hug. Tessa bites back her smile and ignores the pointed look he gives her. "What are you doing here?"

Henri takes a few steps backwards and shoves his hands in his pockets, trying to regain some personal space. "I've been in meetings all last week in San Diego, then New York. Aimée told me to come up here if I had the chance and give Tessa her gift."

"So that was from Aimée?" Tessa walks over the island and picks up the picture and the book, exchanging a knowing look with Henri. They’ve all read that book at some point in time, and she knows exactly why Aimée sent it. Grief can be shared in many ways, this book being the most tangible for those in the thick of it. Glancing around, Tessa realizes they have an audience.

"Sorry, we're having a mini-reunion over here. Uh, this is Henri Toussaint, Aimée's brother. He is the regional project manager in Northern Uganda for the non-profit I interned with."

A bunch of people wave or smile, except Scott. He's been watching them like a hawk since they arrived. From his vantage point he could see the entry and watched the way they entered. Even if they aren't revealing much right now, Scott is pretty sure something is up between them. He may not have feelings for Tessa any more, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel an acute sense of... something he can't name. Betrayal? No that's too severe. The thought of her being with someone else seems like it cheapened everything that happened earlier.

Who's he kidding? He should be happy Tessa met someone. Though right now, he can't tell what kind of vibes they're trying to send off because it's all very confusing. 

When Scott zones in again, Victoria is explaining all the things Henri has done for the Northern Uganda. The guy is a fucking saint. Scott hates him. He doesn't even know Henri, but he knows he doesn't like the way Tessa looks at him.

Tessa’s never looked at any other man like that, except Scott.

Without even being aware of it, he drifts closer to take a look at the photo. It was snatched up after she sprinted out the door and he never got the chance to look at it. He examines the photo and feels his heart speed up in a strange way, a brief wave of lightheadedness striking him. This must have been on the last day. She's covered in dirt and scrapes, but still beautiful. The boys cocooned around her? Don't even get him started on the adorable. Turning the photo over, there’s an inscription scribbled on the back that reads: Have faith, dear heart. - A

He blinks hard to refocus then looks up, finding Tessa's gaze on him, slightly apprehensive. The corner of his mouth creeps up and hers does the same, sort of a mutual quality assurance kind of gesture.

Then people start talking all at once and mayhem ensues and next thing Scott knows, Henri is plugging a thumb drive into Mr. Virtue’s computer and everyone is standing around watching a dumb video.

Except it's not dumb. It's actually pretty good. It's a before and after type video, following a couple kids over the years as they've been part of the program. It shows where they are now, how they're giving back to their community and how they've paid it forward, so to speak. There are a ton of people in the video and Scott catches only one or two glimpses of Tessa, once when she’s wearing a tool-belt and hammering studs into the frame of a building.

It talks about where the non-profit want to go in the future and their goals with surrounding countries. It's then that Tessa is highlighted, showing her walking hand in hand with Sister Rosa as they survey the property border for the fence of last school they completed. She's providing a voice-over of the Canadian initiative and the plan for the community resource center.

Then it's a rapid montage of donors, students, Ugandans, South Sudanese, and Central Africans as they total up the impact this organization has had over the past ten years. Once it concludes everyone claps and Tessa receives a hug from Hailey and her sister. The crowd disperses for the most part, save for random family members and the few individuals familiar with Henri.

"Aimée wanted me to show you one more thing," Henri says from his position in front of the laptop. "You can watch it now, or later. No big deal."

Tessa watches his face, narrowing her eyes at him as she tries to figure out what else Aimée could have done. Finally his inscrutable features give way and he rolls his eyes, nodding at her inquisitive stare. She smiles in reply wanting to see the video.

As Scott watches this exchange occur, his frown grows deeper and deeper. It doesn't let up until he receives a pointy elbow in his ribs. Glancing over, Chiddy is watching him with a furrowed brow. "Dude, you look like you're about to punch someone."

"Maybe I am."

Chiddy is about to reply but the room gets deathly silent as Henri plays the other video. It’s definitely not the same quality, more home video-like. There’s Aimée sitting with Isaiah in her lap and Tuba (is he wearing Scott's shirt?) right beside her. Scott's gaze immediately goes to Tessa, who standing nearby, eyes glued to the screen, breath held.

Tessa bites her lip, watching as those beautiful boys; her beautiful boys, smile brightly at the camera. Isaiah is still wearing his favorite panda beanie. It must have been washed because it's not nearly as dingy as it was. Tuba is still wearing the shirt she gave him — Scott's shirt that he left behind when she lived in England.

Aimée tells the boys to wave at the camera, both doing as they're told. "Hi Tessa! Hopefully Henri isn't lazy and takes the effort to come up and see you. These two wanted to tell you how they were doing." Aimée whispers in Isaiah's ear, smiling as he nods at her.

"Hi Tessa! I don't I don't I don't understand where you are in this small box, but Aimée says you can see us. I wanted to show you that I made this!" He holds up a paper airplane covered with stickers. "And that we finished the book with the bull!"

Aimée grins, "he's still struggling with saying ‘Ferdinand’. Tuba, tell her about your news." 

He looks up at Aimée blankly, confused for a moment. She points at her mouth and he smiles, nodding.

"I lost a tooth!" Tuba points to an empty spot along his gums. "And then I learned how to make a cake! But we burned it because Aimée said our ovens are dumb."

Isaiah makes a face at Tuba, whispering at him, "You said a bad word!"

Tuba freezes then looks up at Aimée, she makes a face and looks at the camera. "Tuba, apologize to Tessa for saying a bad word."

"But you said it first!"

"Tessa, I'm sorry," Aimée gives Tessa a long-suffering look, "for using inappropriate language. Now, Tuba..."

"Sorry, Tessa," Tuba frowns, feeling chastened. He leans towards the camera, sticking his lip out petulantly, whispering: "Can I still keep you, Tessa?"

Tessa lets out a weak laugh, surprised to find her cheeks wet. She swipes at the tears, but finds it futile, because she's equal parts elated and distressed and how can someone simultaneously process two extremes? Moments later, the video ends and Tessa quietly takes her leave as the celebrations continue in earnest.

 

.::.::.::.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casual reminder that comments are lovely.


	21. 14.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I need to know once and for all, do you regret this? Do you regret us?

.::.::.::.

Blood. There is blood everywhere.

On his hands, beneath his nails, his pants and boots. But not on his jacket. He can't figure that part out yet.

Scott stands with his crew members, huddled together outside the trauma bays in the emergency department. Inside the trauma room is Shannon, running point as staff members shuffle in and out of the room with expediency.

It's quiet and calm in the room, something Shannon demands when she's running a trauma. She always says: "No one ever got saved faster because yelling was involved."

The crew member that's being worked on is Jane. They'd been on a routine call out in a rundown part of town. Some vagrants had been squatting in an old building and someone called in, saying they thought they saw a man collapse. The truck arrived and was clearing the building to make sure it was safe for the medics to enter, when Scott and Matt heard an ominous crack and then the loudest boom he's ever heard in his life.

Beneath a heap of a rotted out staircase was Jane, her legs crushed beneath the weight of the wood, and a metal spindle sticking through her abdomen. Scott and Matt had been the ones to uncover Jane , but once they saw the pole, they froze. At the time, Jane was completely with it, but eventually passed out due to blood loss.

Extricated rapidly, she was flown via helicopter to the hospital. And now, she's being stabilized before entering surgery. The whole crew remains near the emergency department, in the lobby and outside, waiting anxiously. Scott watches as a couple trauma surgeons receive a rapid turnover from Shannon, cool as a cucumber as she deftly hands over care.

Minutes later, Jane is escorted with an entire surgical team upstairs to the operating room, where they will hopefully repair the damage. The crew filters outside, leaving Scott and Matt alone in the trauma bay, watching as techs and nurses collect documentation and start to straighten up for the next calamity.

"I'll give you one thing, Scott," Matt says as he crosses his arms, leaning against the wall. "If I ever get banged up, I want Shannon working on me. That was the smoothest trauma I've ever seen. Doc knows her stuff."

Scott nods in complete agreement as Matt squeezes his shoulder and walks outside to join the rest of the crew. Glancing around, Scott spots Shannon in the doctor's workroom, typing frenetically. She doesn't sense him straight away, completely in the zone as she documents the recent trauma with practiced ease.

"Give me one sec, babe. We can go for a walk," she finally murmurs as she clicks a few more boxes and saves her work. She pulls on her long white coat and tucks a couple items in the pockets, then grabs Scott by the arm and tugs him down the hall into the belly of the hospital.

They walk around in silence for a few minutes, only the sounds of their footsteps echoing off the walls. Eventually, Scott starts speaking, quiet and slow.

"I just... there was so much blood, and it was so slippery. I couldn't get a good grip on her the first time, and..." he lets out a low breath. "God I was terrified. How do you do this all the time? I don't understand."

"Well, I'm not typically working on co-workers, Scott. There's a type of anonymity with working in the ER. I just see a body with things I need to fix. I don't put much more thought into it than that."

He frowns, thinking she sounds cold and clinical. She has to be, to do stuff like this all the time.

"I'm no expert, but you were pretty amazing back there." Scott states as they step inside a room that has a huge sink for him to wash the dried blood off his hands. Shannon doesn't say anything, only grabs the ultra-strong soap and scrub brush and carefully sets to work cleaning his hands.

He watches her as she does this, taking her time as she scrapes beneath his nails, runs the bristles softly over his skin. It’s intimate, the way she removes the remnants of what just happened with meticulous care. Her face starts to flush under his gaze and when she looks up, her eyes are brimming with tears.

"Hey, what's wrong? Hey?" Scott stops her ministrations as looks back down again. "Come on, talk to me. What's wrong?"

She leans forward and sets her head into the center of his chest, letting out shuddering breath. "That could have been you on the table. That could have been you with a pole sticking out of you."

Scott wraps his arms around her, pressing her tight against him. He doesn't have anything to say, because she's totally right. It was a simple call, nothing exciting. Just one wrong step and the building started falling apart. No one could have predicted that. Eventually her breathing stabilizes and her voice becomes less fragile.

"I love you," she whispers as she kisses him softly. They finish washing his hands and return back to the ER, quiet and somber. Scott walks out to his crew, who refuse to leave until they are assured of Jane's health. Until then, it's the waiting game.

Sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, Scott feels his phone vibrate and checks the screen. Shannon promised to update him once she heard any word, but it's not her.

It's Paul's brother, ensuring Scott hasn't forgotten about the bachelor party the following night. It's so far away from now that Scott can't even begin to care. Before he shoots back a short-fused text he takes a moment to remind himself that no one outside his crew is even aware of the situation and that it's not anyone's fault. Scott replies in the affirmative and tucks his phone away.

A couple minutes later, he receives another text. This time it's from Tessa. Can you ask Shannon if she could set me up with visiting the Children's floor? I'm not sure how to go about arranging a visit.

He hasn't heard much from Tessa since her party last week. Granted, she had visitors in town and was busy with her sister, but… she’s maintained a careful distance. He doesn't want to think about if she was preoccupied by another visitor.

Scott replies with a simple yes only to receive a reply ten seconds later asking if he was okay? How does she do that? How does she know? It is some weird sixth sense? Or is it because he didn't attach some lame joke?

He debates whether or not he should say anything, deciding to go for the truth because she'd be able to tell otherwise. She calls him back this time, ensuring that he is safe and asks if there's anything she can do. Standing, he takes his phone outside just wanting to hear her voice.

"I'm gonna be here for a while until Jane comes out of surgery. Her husband is on his way too. Can you just... can you tell me about your day?"

The hesitation on the other end shows she wasn't expecting that, but after a quick beat, she agrees. "Sure, I guess. I uh... Let's see. I woke up super early, got some reading done for a bit, went to the gym, then I met a classmate for breakfast and to go over our notes. Her name is Santi and she's in my study group, great girl, crazy laugh — the kind that makes you laugh too. I went to two lectures, then office hours because one of my profs has a vendetta against me and wanted to have a word."

"Want me to shank the guy? I know people," Scott offers, just pleased that she's opening up to him.

"Ha, no. He's one of the greatest legal minds in North America. Don't think it would go well for either of us. Anyway, let's see..." Tessa sighs as she mentally runs over the rest of her day. "I went to the library and worked on a paper, it's all very thrilling, I assure you."

"I know how you feel about libraries though, does this one fit your stringent standards?"

"Hardly. I rarely go to the law library because it induces panic attacks. The amount of over-achieving stressed out students makes it feel like the locker room. My favored library is too new to have the smell of old books, but there are plenty of places to hide away without being disrupted."

Scott grins. She used to lament the poor state of libraries in places they've lived. There was one in England that she loved, one that she'd disappear inside for hours at a time. She pointed it out during that day but they never went inside.

"What are you doing later?" Scott glances down, ignoring the spatter of blood on his pants and boots. He craves knowledge of her life, things that she has yet to let him into.

"Oh it's a doozy," Tessa replies, trying to keep the tone light. "I'll be sitting in on a guest lecture from a visiting professor, then I'll head home and read another 70 pages, eat some rabbit food, go to yoga, and then pray that I can fall asleep before midnight."

"That sleeping thing is really bothering you, isn't it?"

The lapse of silence is telling. She clears her throat and changes topics. "Be safe this weekend when you guys go out for Paul's bachelor party. I don't want to hear about any mayhem you guys cause from the evening news."

"Nah, it'll be pretty tame. Promise. What about —" Scott's phone buzzes, it's Shannon with an update. "Listen I gotta go. Jane is out of surgery."

"Scott?" Tessa blurts, "You can call me you know. Anytime."

Scott frowns, thrown by her sincerity. "The phone goes both ways Tess. Anytime."

He hangs up and heads inside, the crew ready to move upstairs for an update.

.::.

When Tessa hangs up from her call with Scott, she sets down her phone and leans back in her desk chair. Her room is somewhat messy after the past weekend of guests and then a week of... Henri. She neglected to mention in her daily account to Scott that she also bid farewell to Henri this afternoon, but that's neither here nor there.

On Sunday, Victoria had made a comment during lunch on with Tessa, Hailey, Nathan and Henri It was off the cuff, but it resonated within her. They were at one end of the table, discussing Henri's plan to return to Uganda for the duration of the winter when Victoria said, "Unless something worthwhile keeps you here," and a pointed look at Tessa. Neither of them acknowledged it, having maintained a proper distance since he turned up the evening prior.

After an afternoon of farewells, she said goodbye to her sister and her friends at the Toronto airport, she returned to her apartment and found Henri sitting quietly in her lobby. They grabbed coffee and she invited him to stay at her place since he wasn't leaving until the following day. She spent the evening at the library, returned to a home cooked meal, and then he came to bed with her and that was that.

He didn't actually leave for another four days. The only thing that her current inability to sleep afforded her was the time to have a lot of sex and still manage to get her work done. Though, they did a lot more than just have sex, they talked, they ate out, he toured her campus and attended a large lecture with her.

This morning however, they had a stilted conversation that went like this:

"So back in Uganda, when you said you didn't want me to have feelings for you," Henri cleared his throat, scanning the stack of books between them sitting on her dining table cum desk. "This exact situation is what you were referring to... right?"

"Don't confuse the two, Henri. You know I have feelings for you, you've known that for a while. But what you're asking of me goes beyond the personal." Tessa frowned as she let out a haggard breath. "This isn't fair Henri."

"I'm not trying to put you in an impossible situation, I just... Whether you want to admit it or not, you've a brilliant mind for this kind of thing and you've shown great potential," he leaned forward and reached for her hand, cradling it between his own. "I just want you to think about it. Okay? I think it could work. I think we could work. I do."

He ran his hand up to her wrist, slid his thumb softly to her pulse point, then pulled her hand up and pressed his lips firmly against the back, sealing a promise between them. And then he picked up his bag and took his leave, catching a cab to the airport.

Henri had asked her to start a new organization with him. Not right away, of course. But he felt he was starting to run his course with their current non-profit, and pitched the possibility of something different, something... untouched by his current employers. Not to say they were corrupt, but their ultimate goals were starting to diverge from what he had in mind for Northern Uganda and the surrounding regions.

All of that had happened before she met Santi for breakfast. And now?

Now she's sitting in her quiet apartment, staring at the seat Henri vacated earlier that day, wishing like a lovestruck teenager that he'd walk through the door. They'd open a bottle of wine, he'd pick up one of the texts she was trying to absorb, and they'd have a deep conversation of some abstract theory before eating dinner. He'd tell her about his day as they brushed their teeth, then they'd climb into bed and whisper beneath the sheets into bare skin until they glistened with sweat.

Except no, because he left. He left because she told him to leave. Sort of.

She's going to pack up her bag and go to the guest lecture, and then she's going to come home to an empty apartment and silence. Collecting her things, she pulls her bag over her shoulder and glances around one last time before shutting the door. She spots some fabric sticking out from beneath a pillow on her couch upon retrieving it, she realizes it's Henri's scarf. Wrapping it around her neck, she inhales his warm, familiar scent, soothing her agitation.

She thinks about Scott as she walks to lecture, wondering how he'll hold up. As long as his crewmember makes it, he should be fine, but she knows there will be some fallout. Just like that time with the grieving father, he needed Matt to put his head on straight. At least he has Shannon. She's probably a pro at dealing with stuff like this. He hardly needs Tessa at all anymore.

When she gets out of the lecture, she has a text from Scott containing Shannon's number and another from Shannon herself, stating that she'd love to link Tessa up with the Children's floor. They text for a couple minutes before heading into the blessedly quiet library.

For a brief moment, she allows herself to think about the absolute surrealism of texting Scott's girlfriend and not harboring any disingenuous thoughts toward the woman, but there it is. Scott was right, she's smart and funny and really kind. She also has a mischievous streak, which Tessa looks forward to conspiring with in the future.

.::..::..::.

Two weeks later and it’s the eve of Paul and Sarah’s wedding. Scott is doing well, having the support of his friends and Shannon, as well as Tessa in the wee hours when he cannot sleep and there’s no one to talk to. They never talk about anything important, more often than not, they spend it watching old I Love Lucy reruns that still air on some obscure channel.

Tessa doesn’t arrive until tomorrow, mentioning something about an interview or something like that. She’s been dubbed an unofficial bridesmaid, which, after all the idiocy Scott’s gone through as being a groomsman, he believes is the better deal. Not only that, but the new wedding planner is a real piece of work.

Off for the day, Shannon kindly picks up Scott’s suit as well as a couple other items, and then suffers through the three-hour rehearsal before the dinner. Paul and Sarah are both suffering under the strain and the maid of honor is a bitch, at least that’s Shannon’s humble opinion. The restaurant was actually the only reason she agreed; it serves some the best steak in town.

After the rehearsal dinner, Scott shrugs out of his coat as he and Shannon get to her place. She barely drank, but as one of the groomsmen, Scott drank more than his fair share during the speeches and toasts. His eyes trace Shannon as she goes to the kitchen to get both of them some water. Her shoulders are stiff, which is never good, but he doesn't care.

"Are we gonna talk about it at all?" he asks as she walks into the living room, kicking off her heels.

"What? Us moving in together? I already told you, I think it's a good idea, however it makes more sense for us to live at my place because we both work in London."

"But what am I supposed to do about Norma Jean? She'd go crazy here."

"Not if we run her twice a day."

"In the middle of a blizzard, you want to walk her? Because I sure don't."

"Your dog being inconvenienced is not enough of a reason for me to move to your place, Scott. I love Norma Jean, but I love my non-existent commute more."

Scott makes a face of shock, cupping his hand over his mouth in a comical manner. "I can't believe you said that! You're lucky she isn't here right now."

"Scott, please let's have this discussion later, when you're less three-sheets to the wind and a bit more coherent."

"Coherent? I'm completely coherent." No, he thinks to himself, he is not. Especially if the nonplussed look Shannon is giving him is anything to go by. She rises from the couch and tosses him a blanket.

"Sleep on the couch tonight, okay? You snore when you're drunk. Don't forget to drink all your water." She presses a kiss to his forehead then saunters off to bed.

Early the next morning, Scott is awakened to the sound of the door shutting. Shannon enters the living room, wearing her running clothes and glowing with the early morning activity. Scott feels like death, but that shouldn't surprise him. He spots a container of motrin on the table and chases some with the rest of his water.

"Good run?"

"Yeah. Went to yoga too. Tessa's back in town. She took me to the other studio she goes to. I think I like this one better. Less... smelly old women."

Scott blinks hard, not sure he heard her right. "Wait, what? Tessa's back? Why didn't she tell me?"

Shannon arches her eyebrows at him from her position where she's stretching on the floor. "Is she supposed to keep you aware of her every movement?"

"No, it's just... I think we were supposed to get breakfast this morning."

"Eh, she rightfully assumed that you got white girl wasted last night and decided that yoga and studying was more worth her while before she heads over to Sarah's."

"I did not get white-girl wasted."

"Scott, you cried."

"It was a beautiful speech!"

"No, honey, it was a drinking song," she replies slowly as she stretches out her hamstring. "Wow, you really did get hammered. How ya feelin?"

"Like a white girl, the day after."

"There are too many jokes to make there, but I haven't got the time... Too bad you weren't wearing mascara." She stands and taps his foot then unzips her vest. "I'm going to shower. When do you need to be at the church?"

"Uh..." Scott presses his fist to his forehead, pounding the time into his brain. "Three? I think? Shoot. I need coffee for that kinda math."

"Right... well, there's a fresh pot." She retreats to her bedroom while Scott gets a cup of coffee. He glances around the kitchen, pristine with its stainless steel appliances and granite countertops.

Recalling the discussion they had the day previous, he proposed the idea of them moving in together. Shannon seemed pretty receptive to the idea, however they couldn't agree on where to live. Really and truly, her place isn't bad, but he doesn't love it. It also bugs him that there aren't any good places to walk Norma Jean, just a big parking lot and a sketchy trail that leads no where.

Whatever, he'll bring it up later. Sometime.

.::..::..::.

Tessa arrives at the church with Sarah's older sister, Hannah the lawyer. Having never really cared for the woman, she’s glad that this is only a temporary arrangement. The wedding planner exits her car, frowning at the little number of helpers she has.

"I thought you were the maid of honor," the wedding planner states with displeasure. "Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"I'm leaving now. I had stuff in my car that I needed to drop off. This is Tessa," she motions to Tessa who waves. Just then, Meg drives up in her tiny BMW and parks it. "And that's Meg. They're all the help you'll have today."

"No worries, I've done more with less," she states efficiently. "Alright ladies, lets get to work."

The woman wasn't joking. Within two hours, the reception hall is fully ready to go, leaving Tessa and Meg an hour to kill before they need to get ready. They receive parting orders from the wedding planner who dismisses them with a near-militant affect, and about-faces to survey her masterpiece in silence.

They glance at each other doubtfully, and then leave quickly before being ordered to do something else.

"That was... let me just say, that Sarah definitely owes us," Meg says as they climb inside the BMW. "When that woman snapped at you for putting the place settings on the wrong table? Ooooh girl, I thought you were going to rip off her face."

Tessa laughs, shaking her head at Meg. "She just had that type of voice, the shrill kind? I have no idea how she got married."

"I know! Did you see the rock on her hand!? She'd just as sure use it as a weapon."

They laugh at their shared dislike over the wedding planner, then feel contrite and start remarking on her finer qualities. By the time they reach Tessa's home they're talking about plans for Christmas and that show she and Scott are in.

“What song are you skating to?” Meg asks, excited.

Tessa winks as she climbs out of the car. “That’s a secret. You’ll just have to go to the show and find out.”

“Ugh, you are the worst Tessa Virtue!” Meg waves as she pulls away, promising to meet up at the reception hall directly after the ceremony.

Hours later, it is time for a party. Tessa takes a deep breath, trying not to feel overwhelmed. The ceremony was absolutely lovely, the church was beautiful, Paul cried, Sarah’s arms looked amazing... It was great. The only problem is that Tessa still draws attention merely by being alive and all people can talk about is 'how scary it must have been' and 'I can't believe you're here!' to other less pleasant and somewhat ignorant comments like 'did she see anyone get shot.'

She chose to come without a date, more concerned with making sure Sarah enjoys her night than whether or not she looks good hanging off someone's arm. Or vice versa, for that matter. Don't get her wrong though. She does look good. Great even.

"Wowza, Tessa!" Meg slides up behind Tessa and wraps her arms around her. Surprisingly, Meg has been one of the few people she can tolerate, primarily because she had her initial freak out, then was ready to move on. "You look great! Is this the dress you bought when you were shopping with Jordan?"

Tessa nods. "Yup. I think I'm going to save it for an event later this year. It fits pretty well, no?"

"This one certainly is a good choice. Super classy." Meg smiles brightly, giving her a critical look. "You know, sometimes you make me question my sexuality a bit."

Cocking her head to the side, Tessa squints at her friend. "Thanks? I think?"

Meg smirks and gives her a wink. "So, as we are both incognito bridesmaids, what do you need help with?"

Tessa glances around the hall, arms akimbo. "Nothing really. It's just a matter of everyone transitioning in from cocktail hour while the bridal party finishes with their pictures."

"Goodness," Meg places a hand to her bountiful bosom. "I'm getting traumatic flashbacks to my wedding. I gotta say, all I remember was that my armpits wouldn't stop sweating and I feel like I spent more time going from table to table, making sure everyone was happy, than enjoying my own party."

"That's exactly why the wedding planner set up the hall like this. It was all about strategy. I'm glad they finally hired this one; she knows what's up, even if she has a horrid voice. Hopefully it'll give Paul and Sarah a little time to themselves."

"I don't know Tess, you know how social they are. Though I heard that they have a spectacular playlist for dancing. I'm pretty pumped."

Tessa smiles at her friend, then turns as guest start to trickle in, picking up their place cards and finding their table. She and Meg ensure that everything is in the correct place, then go to collect a bubbly refreshment and commence mingling. Tessa is at one of the tables closest to the bridal party. The Moir brothers are sitting at the table behind her, much to Danny’s delight.

“Excellent. I hope you don’t plan on sitting this evening,” Danny states as he claps his hands together and taps the floor.

“I don’t believe she will, mainly because she’ll be dancing with me,” says a well-groomed older gentleman to Tessa’s right. “Thomas Simmons, at your service.”

“Thomas, as in Tom?” Tessa asks as he takes her hand and places a kiss on top. “Poker playing, owner of ‘that damn bird’, Tom?”

“I see my reputation precedes me,” Tom beams, looping his thumbs behind his suspenders. “It appears that you are sitting beside me this evening. I can’t help but wonder who blessed me with such happiness.”

Danny rolls his eyes, familiar with Tom’s ways. “Watch it, Tessa. This guy is a smooth talker, before you know it, he’ll have you laughing up a storm, wishing you’d taken me up on my offer.”

“Don’t worry, Danny,” Tessa grins. “I’ve promised Charlie a dance, I can’t very well leave you out, now can I?”

“Best not. You know I’m the best dancer in my family,” Danny states assuredly as something catches his eye. “Ah look, it the love of my life, the apple of my eye, the ...”

“Daniel,” his wife cuts him off with an eye-roll, “we get the point. Hey Tessa!”

Greetings and hugs and overall merriment ensue. Just as Danny predicted, Tom has Tessa and the rest of her table in stitches throughout dinner, making her thankful for wearing waterproof mascara. Scott drops by briefly, also swearing her to a dance, which she promises as easily as she did the others.

“How do you think Paul and Sarah will do?” she whispers as he kneels beside her.

“They’ll be fine. They were practicing yesterday with the music. It looked good.”

“Good,” Tessa replies, watching Scott. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

Scott nods, but doesn’t meet her eyes. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind. “ He rises and straightens his jacket, poking Tom in the ribs.

“Tessa keep your eyes on this fella right here. He’s a slick one. Don’t let him give you any bad ideas about me.”

“How are you so sure she hasn’t been telling me stories about you?” Tom asks, grinning. Scott shakes his head, waving them off just as the DJ calls them all to attention, inviting Mr. and Mrs. Paul Murphy out onto the floor.

As the music begins, Tessa catches something Paul whispers to Sarah, “Just pretend like no one else is around.”

.::.

The party is still swinging and the dancing is getting more full-energy as the older guests are leaving and the younger crowd remains. Tessa takes a break from what seems like a dance marathon, where she may have been part of a soul train. Wiping the sweat from her forehead and neck, Tessa walks over to the dessert table to grab some water. While she's there Meg and Shannon glide over, both laughing.

"What's so funny?" Tessa raises her eyebrow at their red cheeks.

"My husband." Meg replies, fanning her face. "He may be many things, but a dancer is not one of them."

"He was doing this sort of spastic..." Shannon holds up her hand and starts jerking around in a completely awkward Elaine dance fashion. Tessa can't help but laugh at the way she looks, glancing up as Sarah joins them.

"Please don't tell me you're not imitating Paul, are you? Because that’s pretty much spot on for when Van Halen plays."

The ladies laugh as Tessa shakes her head, assuming the pose of a guitarist, "Yes, but he always has the air guitar down. Always!"

"Oh my God, no way." Meg laughs as Sarah nods emphatically.

"Wait, what about Bon Jovi!?" Shannon, states. "Scott will actually jump on a table for them."

"That's right!" Sarah nods. "Especially when Livin' on a Prayer comes on."

Tessa keeps her face blank; trying not to think about the countless times they've danced to that song. It's her favorite Bon Jovi song. He knows that. He's made it his life goal to embarrass the shit out of her every time it comes on, too.

"Yes well, that's Scott for ya," Tessa replies, mentally calculating how long before she can make a quiet exit.

The current Journey song ends and the infectious beat of Hall and Oates, You Make My Dreams Come True plays over the speakers. Hannah, Sarah's sister, just joined their group and asks Shannon about her dress, but Tessa hears nothing. Nothing but the familiar synthetic beat and the warm voice of Daryl Hall ring out but instead of the typical intrinsic response of joy Tessa has, it's the complete opposite.

Instead, she breaks out into a cold sweat, her vision growing spotty as she takes a step back as though the room is shifting. She blinks once, and feels warm water on her hands, Harbuu leaning against her legs as she stands in front of the sink. Shaking her head, she blinks once more, growing still as a truck pulls up outside with several young men piling out, bearing all sorts of weapons.

Feeling unsteady, Tessa offers what she hopes is a smile and takes her leave from the chatting women, seeking out the ladies room. She misses the way the women grow concerned, the way Shannon frowns and follows after her, the way Scott stops everything and watches them leave.

On shaky stilt-like legs, Tessa makes it down the corridor and into the neighboring ballroom, which is thankfully empty and lit by ambient light, holding only extra chairs and tables. She's having trouble breathing, but feels so unsteady that she takes a seat in one of the chairs instead of walking outside for fresh air. She closes her eyes and rests her head against the table, gasping for air.

She keeps seeing that man with jaundiced eyes and a ragged scar yelling at Sister Rosa, the way she shook her head fiercely, the anger on Michael’s face as he ran outside, yelling at the men. She sees the splatter of blood against the sheets and the slump of Sister Rosa’s body as she falls to the ground. Tessa's fingers scrape against the table, searching for purchase, but grasping nothing but air and fake wood. She chances a glimpse of her surroundings, only to find everything blurry and the floor rocking treacherously. She clamps them shut, sucking in air like she's drowning.

Moments later, she feels a soft, cool hand against her back and is strangely calmed by it. However, the images keep repeating in her mind, over and over and she can't make them stop.

"Tessa, I need you to breathe, okay?" Shannon's voice is soft and soothing, barely over a whisper. "You're going to pass out, if we can't slow you down."

"I can't," Tessa forces out, "I can't... I can't even get it."

"Shhhh," Shannon continues to rub her hand gently over Tessa's back, sweeping her brown hair aside. "Don't try to talk yet. Just focus on breathing. Slow it down. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth."

Eventually Shannon coaches Tessa into slower breathing, but she still can't stop her hands from shaking or the fact that she's sweating profusely. She sits back slowly, swiping at the tears running down her cheeks, embarrassed.

Shannon seems unaffected, more concerned with taking Tessa's pulse than anything else. Rising from her kneeling position, Shannon slides into a nearby chair.

Tessa has begun to hiccup at this point and is starting to wish she had a jet plane or an invisibility cloak... anything to get her away from here. They remain quiet for several minutes as her hiccupping dies down.

"Wanna talk about it?" Shannon's voice is gentle and quiet. All the same, Tessa doesn't feel all that comfortable talking about such a private issue with someone wholly unconnected to her.

"Not really," Tessa grits out, her throat scratchy. "I just... there's so much..."

Tessa clamps her mouth shut as her throat starts to close again, her focus on gliding her nail along a scratch in the table.

"Got it," Shannon nods, studying Tessa for a moment. "Is this the first time that's happened?"

Tessa thinks back over the past few weeks and nods, having done her best to not dwell on what happened to Sister Rosa. She can't make eye contact at this time, merely fixate on the peculiarity of this happening at all. She's had what she thought were panic attacks in the past before skating events, but none elicited such a visceral response. Could this be more than just a panic attack?

"Are you... talking to anyone about everything that happened?"

Tessa shakes her head. "I thought about it, but then I was doing fine. All things considered, nothing really happened to me."

Shannon opens her mouth to reply, then shuts it, biting the corner of her lip. She starts again: "Forgive me for saying this, but you're the only witness to the murder of someone very dear to you. Not only that, but... really and truly? The fact that you survived is remarkable, Tessa. You spent a week on your own, no weapons, two kids, and a broken friend. I know you keep saying it was nothing, but it was. Those three people are alive because of you."

Tessa shakes her head, hearing it, but still not agreeing. They'd have been fine without her. All she did was expedite the process. Maybe this wouldn't have even have happened if she and Aimée hadn't been there to begin with. Except... those men weren't there for her or Aimée, they were there for Michael.

"I also don't think you are as fine as you think you are. I mean, unless it's normal for you to only get a couple hours of sleep for days at a time, or be incredibly jumpy."

Caught off guard and completely unable to withhold her response, Tessa narrows her eyes and gives Shannon a shrewd look. "You don't even know me. What makes you think you know what's normal for me?"

Shannon ignores her tone and question, prepared for the defensive posturing. "Here's the deal, you went through some crazy shit not that long ago. It's completely acceptable to not feel quite right. But there comes a point where you need to figure out if you're truly okay, or if you're just putting up a front. Sooner or later, it's going to get the best of you."

Frowning, Tessa continues to stare at the table with stubborn resolve as Shannon rises slowly, making a face as she removes her heels. Letting out the sigh that all women release when freeing their feet from fashion prison, she walks gingerly to the door, spotting Scott who's hovering just outside.

"Shannon?" Tessa calls quietly as she stares into the darkness.

"Yeah?"

Tessa let's out a deep breath and a solemn, "Thank you."

Shannon smiles and ducks her head, turning to the door and letting herself out. Less than a minute later, a bottle of water is placed in front of her and Scott takes a seat beside her, quiet as he crosses his leg. Tessa reaches out and takes a sip of the water; suddenly very tired and wishing she weren't at the wedding of some of her best friends. She wants nothing more than to share in their excitement and joy, but she can barely summon the energy to get to her car.

"Can you tell me about it?" he asks quietly, staring at his feet.

"Not right now."

And that's that. They remain in silence for another five minutes, until Tessa nearly empties her bottle of water. She glances over at Scott, sweaty and only slightly buzzed, who returns her look. The overwhelming concern on his features is enough for her to lean forward and press her head against his shoulder.

"Tell me about your day," she murmurs. He lets out a quick laugh and presses his hand to her knee, grinning.

"Well, let's see..." they sit together for another five minutes chatting about his day and what they did for the bachelor party. They've nearly forgotten where they are until Shannon sticks her head inside and says they're looking for all the groomsmen. Scott looks at Tessa, clearly not wanting to leave her side.

"Don't worry about it. I'm gonna head home."

"You sure? I can take you home, it's not a big deal."

Tessa shakes her head and fixes him with a firm expression. "Go. I'll be fine. I’m positive."

"Please let me know when you get home." They part in the hall, leaving Tessa free to go collect her things and depart. She sneaks into the reception hall and bids farewell to Tom while everyone is distracted. He asks her to come visit next time she's in town and she promises she will, giving him a kiss on the cheek after getting his phone number.

Unfortunately, Danny is making his way inside with his wife's sweater and stops when he sees Tessa descending the stone steps.

"Hey, where's the fire?" Danny asks, frowning at the look on her face.

Tessa shakes her head, giving him a weak smile. "It's nothing, I just... I think I over did it the past couple days and I've got a raging headache."

Danny watches her for a moment, knowing she's trying to sell him a big fat lie. Thankfully he takes mercy on her and accepts it, but she doesn't get off scot-free. Her life can't be that easy.

"Alright, Kiddo. How 'bout I walk you to your car?"

She nods in agreement as he reaches out to pull her close to his side, turning to walk her to her car. They continue on, commenting about the wedding and the upcoming winter festivities until she gets to her door.

"Listen, I've got to come to Toronto to for a coaching seminar on Tuesday. Want to grab a bite before I head back up here?"

Tessa nods, she'd rather cut off her hand than say no to a Moir brother. "Sure, I'll text you my address. We can meet up at my place after I get out of class and I can take you out to dinner. My treat."

"Wow," Danny smirks. "Free dinner with a pretty girl? Shoooooot. I'm sold." He gives her another hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. "Drive safe, Tess. Text me when you get home."

She smiles at his request, figuring she'll just text the entire family when she gets home. Climbing inside, she waves as she drives toward the motorway. Once she arrives at home, she texts Scott and his brother, replies to a text from Meg, then climbs into bed and has full night of restless sleep.

The following Monday, she goes to see her therapist.

.::.

Nearly two weeks since the wedding and Scott’s exhausted. He's been going through a bunch of training for being an on-air personality and then spends his evenings training at the ice-rink with Tessa.

The daytime training is easily the most unpleasant. He has to watch hours of footage of himself, looking for certain habits he might have that viewers may find annoying. He has quiet a few: he likes to tap his prompt cards on the desk, he winks at the camera, he has an inability to hide what his co-anchor and mentor — Mike Schulte, calls his BS face.

"I can't help it if I'm interviewing athlete and they're just trying to sell a pack of lies. Why can't I call them on it?"

"You can," Mike starts in a hesitating manner, "but you've got to be more tactful."

Scott frowns, watching Mike in the make-up chair. With a little salt and pepper hair that is more flattering than aging, Mike is 48, played pro baseball with the Phillies and later, the Blue Jays. The guy is still in top shape and has the dating record to prove it. An epic story-teller, he's never been married, never had a kid (he's a 100% on this), but he's dated everything from supermodels to first grade-teachers and somehow always manages to end it on a good note with a great story to tell.

"Listen Scott, I know it's a tough pill to swallow, but just roll with it. Think about all those interviews you had to do after the Grand Prix events. How rehearsed and bland you and Tessa were. There's nothing wrong with it, but an interviewer worth their salt knows when they're being given the run around, when to push for more, and when to move on."

Mike is also the consummate professional, which Scott struggles with. When at work, Mike is all work. Take him outside the building, and he's your neighbor, he's one of the guys, he's a goofball. But at work? Get it done.

He's got three rules: 1. Always be prepared, know your subject 2.Shoot once, ask questions later (wait what? "Not like that, Scott. I do all my clips in one shot. You want it to be as natural as possible.") 3. Always thank the subject, even if you can't stand them (Scott won't fully understand this for another four months).

It's a two-week long boot camp of sorts, which keeps him in Toronto for the duration. It's good though, he needs the break from the fire station, and if he's honest with himself, Shannon. They still can't decide whose place to move into, nor can he pluck up enough courage to show her his property. He feels like it'd be easier to do if he knew she'd be willing to move to Ilderton. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.

Now the evenings, those are another story. Tessa completes as much work as she can during the day and early evening, and then they meet at a dinky rink outside of town and spend their nights practicing. Some nights are better than others, but it's mainly because they keep messing around instead of focusing. Whether she's aware of it or not, she opens up to him while they're skating, much to his delight.

He learns of her class schedule and the insanely competitive students, she talks of her neighbor two doors down whom she suspects is keeping a mistress, he laughs when she imitates one of her professors who has a distracting lisp. On occasion, she shares stories of Uganda, of her work there and certain things that are on her mind that day: I wonder if tuba figured out how to do a bicycle kick, I wonder if Isaiah understands why I'm not there, I wonder if the goats have escaped...

He's been in town for a week with one left to go and is enjoying himself immensely, even if he is living in a hotel again. It's nice, but the studio stated he’d need to find an apartment or an efficiency for when he starts in January. He hasn't even begun to look yet, but he figures he'll come down in December and seal the deal.

Saturday night they get to the rink and Tessa seems particularly goofy. She's quick to laugh and somewhat careless in her movements which is the first clue of her exhaustion. When Scott finally gets a good look at her during a water break, he frowns at the dark circles under her eyes and the obvious fatigue.

"What's up?" Scott asks as he skates backwards in front of her, stroking around the perimeter. She shakes her head, letting out a breath.

"I know it's kinda rude to say, but uh... you look exhausted," Scott states, receiving a dark look from her in reply. "How about we call it a night, grab some dinner and head home."

"There's no point," Tessa edges out. "I don't sleep anymore. There's no point in going home, because all I'm going to do is read for couple hours, then go to the gym until I'm exhausted enough to fall asleep for two or three hours."

Scott makes a face of disbelief, but stops in his tracks when he realizes that it explains most everything. He follows her around the rink, the set of her shoulders, the tilt of her head, the tightness in her posture. When she comes his way again, he scoops her up playfully, but heads to the boards despite her protests.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you home. You're gonna take one of those baths with all the smelly stuff, while I make you dinner. You're going to put on your fluffy fleece pajamas and we're going to eat and watch a movie and you're going to relax."

"Scott I don't —" she's cut off by Scott's hand over her mouth and fierce expression.

"I wasn't asking your permission in any of this. We're doing it. Plain and simple."

They leave the rink in silence, piling into Tessa's SUV. She drives downtown, through crowded streets that are full of Saturday night gaiety, and to the garage beneath her towering apartment building. Due to timing and the convenience of Tessa picking him up and dropping him off, Scott has yet to actually visit Tessa's apartment.

They take the elevator up to the lobby, then walk quietly through a large, open marble floored atrium, past the security desk where Tessa walks up to sign Scott in. As she chats with the guard, he feels the scrutiny of the man's gaze, wondering what he must think of them at the moment. Then they head to another set of elevators that have glass walls facing out to the city and take an open car, where Tessa presses the button for the second highest floor.

"What, was the penthouse taken?" Scott smirks at her as she rolls her eyes.

"It's a long story, actually. I wasn't even supposed to have this one," she replies, all enthusiasm gone from her voice.

Once they enter their apartment, Scott feels an odd sense of deja-vu, though he isn't sure why. He's never dreamt of this before, but it seems strangely familiar to him. It's gorgeous and new, hardwood floors, quartz counter tops, and stainless steel shiny things. It's also neat in the same way a place that is rarely used is neat, indicating Tessa spends little time here. As the floor plan is open, Tessa simply points at the highlights in place of an actual tour.

"Kitchen, living room, bedrooms down the hall. The guest bath is right there," she motions to the first room on the left barely visible down the hall. "I'm going to get clean. Take a look in the fridge. I doubt there's much to work with."

"Bath! Take a bath. With all the smelly things!" Scott orders as he drops his bag near the door, slips off his shoes and pads over to the kitchen. Correct in her assumption, Tessa's fridge holds the makings for what he assumes are her morning smoothies — vegetables and fruits, but little else. He knows she loves to eat, but there isn't much evidence as he opens various cabinets and finds them sadly bare.

The entire outer wall of her apartment is floor-to-ceiling windows, which while awesome, can't be great for insulation. That is, until he approaches and realizes the glass must be the fancy kind that is thick enough to withstand the blistery winters here. He presses his head against the glass, searching the streets below with purpose. Spotting what he's looking for, he texts her quickly then ducks out, in search of groceries.

Scott returns 45 minutes later and can hear the faint sounds of Tessa on the phone in her room. He sets to work in her kitchen, quickly finding everything he needs since Tessa is like-minded in her placement of kitchen utensils and pots. By the time she emerges, he's nearly done, pretty satisfied with the quick work.

"Smells good," Tessa offers as she slides up onto a stool at the island. "What do you need help with?"

"Nothing. Just sit there and watch my masterful skill," Scott smirks, pleased to see color back in her cheeks and wearing plush pajamas. A couple minutes later he scoops the food onto large white plates, almost like he's plating it for one of those cooking shows.

They tuck in with vigor, having spent a solid four hours at the rink before calling it a day. He glances at her occasionally as she eats, trying to figure out where to start. She's not too talkative right now, which indicates a renewed proclivity to contemplation or she's taking her time before getting around to the matter at hand.

"You can stop looking at me like I'm a wounded bird, Scott," Tessa states plainly as she twists the fettuccini around her fork. "I am talking to someone, about... everything. But I'm not going to get better overnight. It's only been two weeks since Paul and Sarah's wedding."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." he stops when Tessa waves him off, not wanting to hear it.

"Don't apologize, just stop looking at me like I'm going to break. I can assure you, I will not." Her voice hasn't wavered much, but he can hear the tightness in her words, surpassed only by the set of her shoulders.

He watches her for a second, eyebrow raised in curiosity. "I’m going on a limb and assuming you were talking to your mom just now. Did your she say something to you while you were talking?"

Her brief pause is the only answer he needs. Tessa sets her fork down and folds her hands in her lap, peering down as her hair curtains her face. He wants to reach out and tuck it behind her ear so he can study her, but there's no way to do that without getting his hand cut off.

"I know she's worried about me, but I swear to God. I just need her to relax and stop asking how I am all the time. I will be fine. I swear." She sighs, picking up her fork again. "I don't know what more I can do to prove it to her."

Scott understands exactly where Kate is coming from, but he sympathizes with Tessa as well. Tessa's mom has always had a vested interest in Tessa's well-being, sacrificing her time and career, going so far as moving to Michigan to help Tessa when the stress of skating came to be too much. Some would find it overbearing, but at the time Tessa was a happy and willing recipient.

But now? Not so much.

"Maybe invite her down next weekend, after you and I wrap up. She can even watch us skate. Let her take you shopping and buy you dinner. Whatever she wants to do just let her do it. There are things she needs to do, to ensure you're well taken care of, and the visual assurance can help quite a bit."

Tessa watches him as he speaks, a fond smile creeping over her face once he's done speaking. "When did you get to be so wise?"

Scott cracks a smile, ducking his head. "Somewhere between the lobby and the front door. Don't worry, it's only a temporary affliction."

They clean up and settle on Tessa's large sectional couch. Tessa benevolently allows Scott to take the corner, but only because he's a guest. They turn on the television, but continue talking for nearly an hour until Scott yawns. He notices sadly, that Tessa shows no such signs of sleepiness.

"You can crash here if you want," Tessa offers as she rises from the couch. "Let me get you a towel so you don't smell up my guest bed with your stinky body."

Glancing at the clock, he decides it's not a bad idea and acquiesces. As he showers, Tessa puts sheets on his bed and grabs an extra blanket. She goes to make a cup of tea before retreating to her room to get some work done. Once she finishes, Scott enters the kitchen smelling like clean man and she fights not inhaling deeply. She hands him a glass of water and bids him goodnight.

When he wakes the following morning, it's far too early for normal humans to be awake, which means Tessa must be. It's nearly five-thirty, so he figures she’s probably getting into the shower, but when he sticks out his head into the hall, he doesn't hear a thing and finds her bedroom door open.

Scott dresses slowly, feeling an unpleasant tightness in his low back due to their half-assed skating yesterday. When he emerges, it's to the sound of banging in the kitchen. It seems that his host has returned, facing the sink as she downs a glass of water. She's clearly come from the gym, still sweaty and breathing heavy.

"What, did you run the stairs or something?" Scott asks as Tessa visibly jumps, choking on her water.

"Dude, make a sound next time!" she gasps between rattling coughs. Once she finally gets her breath, she glances up at Scott, who looks a trace apologetic. "Want breakfast?"

"Oh what, gourmet cereal? Yes please," Scott quips before receiving a mock glare from Tessa. "Sorry, yes. What's available?"

"I was going to make blueberry waffles, but hey, if you want cereal..."

"Waffles are PERFECT!!!" Scott nearly claps in excitement. He loves waffles. Tessa rolls her eyes and gets to work, largely ignoring Scott as he sips coffee she just brewed.

"All things considered, Tess," Scott says as he leans back in his chair, picking up conversation from yesterday. "I think you're doing fine. I mean, you're skating great and doing well in your classes, so I don't know what the problem is."

Tessa's quiet for a moment, chewing her lip as she stirs the batter. She sets down the bowl and looks up at him, her face carefully devoid of any tells. She wears this face more frequently lately, but it's never struck him as anything to be concerned about, until now.

She clears her throat and releases her bottom lip, "Are you having fun? When we skate, are you enjoying it?"

Confused, Scott nods, not understanding where she is going with this. "Of course, I wouldn't bug you about it all the time, otherwise."

Nodding, she grabs the spoon and continues to stir, still deliberating. "And this? You enjoy hanging out with me?"

"Yeah..." Scott answers cautiously. He feels like he's being set up for a trap. Maybe he doesn't want waffles.

Tessa doesn't say anything for a few minutes, waiting as the waffle maker heats. She places the appropriate amount of batter on the center of the maker and shuts the lid, twisting. Grabbing some plates, she hands him one, places one where she'll sit and one by the maker. Grabbing her coffee, she leans against the counter in silence. Scott barely breathes, afraid to make too much noise because it'll stop her from telling him what's on her mind. Clearly, she’s been thinking about it all night.

"When we were hiking to Kitgum, I got sick. Well, I had really bad diarrhea and got dehydrated, had a fever... the works. I got a little delirious because of it and started saying a bunch of nonsense. Anyway, I wasn't getting better and Aimée and I had a talk about when she should give up on me and keep going. Then I started laughing, because in the middle of a fever dream I thought, 'Hey, at least Scott will get his wish. I won't be around to mess up his life anymore."

Scott's jaw drops as he clenches his fist, feeling like she punched him in the gut. Tessa keeps her gaze down, fixated on one of the handles on her drawer. "It pissed Aimée off so much when I said it. She slapped me. Hard. And then she said that anyone who makes me feel that way has no place in my life, and that I'd be better off never having met you."

"Do you?" Scott whispers, his expression dark. "Do you wish you'd never met me?"

A beat. "Not anymore."

But she did. She regretted meeting him. It stings, knowing this. The silence rings between them as the waffle maker reminds them of its presence. Tessa sets down her mug and pulls out a perfectly golden waffle and hands it to Scott, who is not even remotely hungry.

Repeating the whole process, Tessa leans back against the counter and crosses her arms; the sweat having dried and now making her somewhat cool.

"I turned the corner shortly after and with it, a type of clarity and peace I hadn't felt in months. Aimée was still pretty angry at me because she thought I'd given up. But to prove to her I was fine, I said that after everything I'd gone through this summer, it brought me to that point and I knew at that very moment, that I'd forgiven you. Everything — relationships, jobs, family, friends… it’s all so finite. If we want it in our lives, then we work hard to keep it there." Tessa takes a step forward and returns to twisting her fingers together.

"But coming to peace with it and actually reconciling myself with the reality is hard. It's been very hard because I see you with our friends or at the rink and you seem so happy to me, but then I ask myself, what was so awful about being with me before that made you give up?"

"Tess —" Scott's voice breaks as Tessa shakes her head, continuing.

"What did I miss? We were best friends Scott." Tessa frowns as she pulls the waffle out and sets it on her plate. "I know now that forgiving and forgetting are two completely different things. But for me to be able to move on and continue being around you, I need to know once and for all, do you regret this? Do you regret us?"

Scott starts shaking his head before she's even done speaking, never more sure of anything in his life. "No. I don't regret it for a second. Never have, never will. I regret hurting you. And I definitely regret saying I didn't want you in my life. I was wrong. So wrong. I already told you, I've lived the alternative and I can never do that again. I need you in my life."

Tessa stares at him for a solid thirty seconds like she's trying to read the truth in his words by reaching inside his mind. Somehow finding what she's searching for, she takes in a breath and exhales, nodding with a certain finality. "Okay then. I'm never bringing this up again."

She look as though a weight has been lifted off her shoulders, and he wonders how long she's been storing it up.

"Now that I've sufficiently ruined breakfast," Tessa says as Scott remains in his stool, motionless. "Do you want to come with me down the street? There's a bagel place that opens at six."

Scott nods, sliding down from his stool, but still raw. She may be at peace with it, but he's not. How could she even feel that way, fever dream or no? Before his thoughts run away with him, Tessa appears in front of Scott and wraps her arms around him, the first time she's hugged him since she returned from Uganda.

His arms curl around her, fitting into places carved out for him over the years. He feels her eyelashes flutter against his neck and tilts his head down until his lips press against her collarbone.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her fingers dig into his skin as she says the words, sealing them into his flesh for good measure.

He tightens his grasp, feels the air as it enters her lungs and sighs into her skin. “I’m sorry too.”

Later that night, Tessa sleeps for a solid five hours.

.::.::.::.


	22. 14.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who do I need to speak to about placing a bet on when Scott and Tessa will get together?”

.::.::.::.

“Shoulders back, head up, arms…” Rafael frowns. “Not like that. Come on Tessa, focus. Get your arms back. Extend, woman!”

“You get your arms back,” Tessa mutters as she darts her arms behind her in an unattractive jut. She’s in a foul, tired mood. Bah humbug.

“Breakkkk, take a breakkkkk,” Rafael sing-songs. “You look like rubbish.”

Tessa glowers at Rafael, watching as he demonstrates what he wants from her. Born in Colombia, he left home at twelve to become a dancer with the Royal Ballet School. Currently he’s taking a sabbatical as his shoulder heals from a recent surgery, serving as a guest instructor at the Canadian Ballet School.

She met him at one of the contemporary dance classes she attends on Tuesday nights and immediately found a kindred spirit. He loves Clark Gable, lives off chocolate and coffee, and shares her quirky sense of humor as well as her taste in men. He’s also an insomniac, which is why they’re both dancing in the aerobics room in her building at two in the morning on a Friday night.

“I think maybe we need to go to a performance. Channel your inner prima ballerina.”

“With what money and what time? Broke grad student here,” Tessa snarks, leaning back against the barre. “I’ve got the fundraiser next weekend and every free moment next week will be spent preparing for that. At least I have Hailey. It’s pretty crappy when the student who was running things decided to quiet because his studies were suffering.”

“Daft git. Cannot believe he left you hanging like that. But you’ve the rest of the committee, right? Fifteen students to help out? You’ll be right as rain.” Rafael hums as he begins a fouette. “Can I come? I want to sit in the back and cheer loudly to make all the pretentious types feel nervous.”

“Do you have two-hundred and fifty dollars to burn?” Tessa smirks at his shocked expression. “Yeah, I know it’s steep. I didn’t set that goal. The students figured that was the going price for a plate at one of these things.”

“Dammmmmn, girl. I dunno if I can swing that. But can I crash?”

Tessa shrugs, thinking it would be worth it just to see the look on Hightower’s face. “Why not? Just… keep the wolf-whistling to a minimum. Alright…” Tessa cracks her neck and rises from the floor, bending her foot in the unnatural way of dancers. “Let’s do it from the top, one more time, see if I can’t make it look half-way decent.”

“As you wish,” Rafael grins as she rolls her eyes, moving into place as the music starts. If she’d been in her right mind, she wouldn’t have agreed to dance to this music. For starters, it’s very balletic and she’s out of ballet shape. Hip-hop and contemporary? Sure thing, sign her up.

But she can’t remember the last time she tried to do pique turns across a stage. Not only that, but transferring it to the ice has been quiet the challenge. All Scott has to do is skate circles around her and add flourishes. Obviously, Jeff was thinking much more of her part than his. Damn you, Jeff Buttle.

That’s okay though. What Scott doesn’t know is that Rafael is going to spice up Scott’s part next Saturday. That’ll show him to agree to perform such a challenging piece with such a short period of time to prepare.

After not one, but three more repetitions, Tessa feels as though she could get a couple hours of sleep before her morning study group.

They shoulder their gym bags and hobble out of the spinning room, legs like jelly and drenched in sweat. Just before they part ways in her lobby, Tessa hands Rafael an energy bar.

“So Scott will be here Saturday morning, as will Jeff. We’re having an early morning practice before I head to the hotel to set up for the dinner. Do you want to meet me here at seven and we can head to the rink?”

“That would be lovely,” Rafael replies as he kisses her on the cheek and backs his way to the door. “Oh, by the way, tell Scott I want a signed calendar. I’d also like a ride in the elevator alone with him if —“

“Rafe, I’m pretty sure Scott’s girlfriend will take offense if you try to molest Scott in a dark secluded corner.”

“What! I can’t help it. Medium, dark and handsome is my type!”

“Good bye Rafael!” Tessa sighs as she turns to her elevators, waving at Rusty the security guard as she reaches out for the button.

All things considered, she’s doing much better than she was. She still doesn’t sleep much, but she’s learned to accept it and make the time more fruitful and less despairing. Sure, before she was working out like a fiend and studying just like she is now, but there’s a type of peace with which she approaches it now.

That being said, she’s currently feeling the strain of school, the holiday show, and the stress of putting on a high-profile fundraiser. She did the interview with a magazine just before Paul and Sarah’s wedding and was told it would most likely come out in the December/Janurary article. What she wasn’t expecting is that they’d decided to make her the cover story and now needed a photo shoot to go along with it.

Tessa loves her a good photo shoot, because it’s fun to get dressed up and preened and fawned over. Unfortunately she doesn’t have the time for a shoot, so she asked them to come along when she prepares for the fundraiser next Saturday. It should be complete chaos from start to finish.

Rinsing off and brushing her teeth, Tessa readies for bed. Mentally she reviews what she has lined up for the day, study group then hours devoted to reading case studies and then a planning meeting with the students who run the non-profit for her university. They have four branches right now, all the places at which she spoke during the spring. There will be fundraising dinners at each, but due to her school schedule, she will only attend this one, as it is easily the most high profile. Awesome.

It’s okay, Tessa sighs as she works on her relaxation techniques, I’ll raise the money somehow. This is just another step in getting me there.

Scott volunteered to help, which at first she was hesitant, because she’s been easing him back into her life. But when he said he could fill a table with guests, she decided that perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea. He said he’d do it as long as they could sell the firefighters annual calendar in the lobby.

"Calendar? As in several attractive firefighters posing at the firestation, all for a good cause?" Grinning from ear to ear, Tessa immediately agreed and asked what month he was and where all the negatives were. He claimed the calendar wasn’t out yet and that he had no idea what she was talking about. She quickly learned from Shannon that Scott’s photo involved him, the ladder truck, and an adorable cat.

She cannot wait to plaster everything at Holiday on Ice with the calendar. His house too. Maybe even his truck.

Waking a good four hours later, she rolls out of bed and performs her morning stretches. Checking her email, she receives one from Aimée, one from Henri, and one from her mom. Her mom, bless her soul, has the biggest heart in the entire world.

Tessa took Scott’s advice and invited her mom down the previous weekend. That Saturday evening, Tessa shared every detail of her last ten days in Uganda. Her mom absorbed it all with quiet poise — completely enraptured and slightly mortified. It was cathartic in a way that telling those gentlemen at Heathrow felt freeing, but this felt like it actually meant something, like validation for staying alive.

Lot’s of tears were spent, but in the end when Tessa hugged her mother goodbye, it was the assurance of eventual acceptance that left them on a high note. Since that day, they chat daily in a way that is uplifting and makes Tessa feel warm and satisfied.

The only thing she left out was the notebook and that’s because Tessa is having a meeting on Monday regarding some new events that have occurred since she left. Apparently there’s been movement regarding some of the information found in the notebook and Tessa is receiving a courtesy brief. Considering she was simply a messenger, she feels this is unusually inclusive, but is also aware they have follow-up questions. In a brief moment of sleep-deprived ponderings, she secretly hopes they'll ask her to suit up and go on rogue trips somewhere.  
Tessa Virtue, international woman of mystery. Yeah, she likes that. Nice ring. Eh.

As she’s returning home late that day from the library, Scott calls.

“Hey! Tessa,” Scott says cheerily. “I’ve got good news and I’ve got great news. Which do you want first?”

“Hmmm,” Tessa kicks off her shoes, returns flat to the ground and places her legs on her front door, stretching. “Good.”

“The table is completely sold. My mom and dad also wanted to come so I got them tickets too.”

“Oh wonderful,” Tessa smiles, thankful for his efforts. “They don’t have to pay though, you know that right? Neither do you. It’s way too —“

“Stop right there, Tessa Virtue. I said I’d do my part and this is it. The least I can do is fill a couple chairs and throw in a couple hundred dollars. Besides, all I was going to do with my share was get a snow plow for Christmas.”

“But you need a snow plow,” Tessa frowns. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Don’t make it up to me, just let me help you,” Scott replies quietly, his cheery tone slipping into seriousness. Tessa shuts her eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the way her chest constricts in warning, not wanting to trust him. Her mind overrides her cautious heart and forces her to comply with his efforts, however.

“I’ll do my best,” Tessa replies. “What was the great news?”

“The calendars have arrived. Oh, and Jeff just got in from Montreal. He told me you’ve been tweaking the program a bit?”

“Yes well, I mean… yeah,” Tessa fumbles a bit. “Don’t change the subject yet. How do the calendars look?”

“Eh, I think they had to photoshop me some biceps. They also did that magic brush thing where they take away zits.”

“Such a soul-sucking business,” Tessa grins. “I want mine signed by everyone. Oh, wait. I need two copies.”

“Two? Eh?” Scott inquires in such a way that she can imagine him raising an eyebrow. “Whatever you say. I’m not going to ask. Back to the program, what’s up?”

“It’s nothing big. Just refining some rough spots. You’ll see on Saturday morning.”

“Do you want me to come down on Friday instead? I feel like maybe we’re doing too much on Saturday.”

“You can come Friday, but I’m hoping skating on Saturday will help me expel some nervous energy.”

“Makes sense. Okay, I’ll see what’s going on up here and let you know.”

“Perfect,” Tessa sighs as silence fills the line. She grows concerned for a moment, wondering what’s going on. “Scott? What’s up?”

She can almost feel his mind churning, but he hesitates before replying. “It’s been a long week. I just wanted to hear your voice. Tell me about your day so far.”

Letting her eyes close again, she starts talking softly, ignoring the sense that Scott is keeping something from her.

It’s okay though; Scott pays for it Saturday morning when she lets Rafael have his way wicked with Scott. Biting her lip hard to prevent herself from laughing, she shares a look with Jeff who is entirely amused by the way Rafael manhandles Scott. Finally taking pity, Tessa and Jeff intervene just as Rafael is trying to lift Scott into the air to demonstrate some hand placement for a new lift.

Once Tessa and Scott move to the center of the ice for a run through, she receives quite the earful from Scott. “I swear to God, if you leave me alone with that guy, I won’t give you your surprise later.”

Tessa glances at him, intrigued. “Surprise? What surprise?”

“Well, you’ll never know, will you?” Scott snaps as they push off in time with the music. “Why did we let Jeff choose this song? How many people are going to ask if we’re trying to emulate Grinkov and Gordeeva?”

“Well, I mean…” Tessa is lifted into the air, twists, then sweeps toward the ground before finishing, “they did skate to this piece. But it’s not like no one else has never skated to it. What about when Shen and Zhao? ”

“Yeah, but…” Scott sucks in a breath as they go into a tight spin before parting, “we also did Mahler. I just don’t know if this was in the best taste.”

“It’s too late now, the show is in two weeks,” Tessa replies as she starts her ridiculously long pique diagonally across the ice as Scott does his part, now more difficult and visually stunning thanks to Rafael and his additions.

By the time they conclude the piece, Tessa is breathless and Scott is bent at the knees. Both are in good shape, having spent hours preparing, however the last half of the piece is relentless, much like Fly Me to the Moon. The pair skate up to Jeff and Rafael who are conferring quietly, which never bodes well.

“It needs…. Something,” Rafael frowns, arms crossed. “What about that lift you did in the other program this year. That one where it looks like you’re soaring to the ice and then balancing on one hand on Scott’s knee and he’s leaning way back?”

Tessa and Scott make faces of matching faces of displeasure, making both Jeff and Rafael laugh. “Wow, so that’s a no, then?”

“It’s just…” Tessa starts as Scott finishes, “very scary. Lot’s of coordination and we need…” Tessa picks up again, “to lead into the lift in such a way….” Scott nods at her, “that we don’t lose momentum…” Tessa turns to Jeff shrugging, “we just need the right amount of speed and…” Scott bits his nail, leaning his head to the side, “space. Definitely space.”

Rafael looks between the two of them, then to Jeff, eyebrows raised. “Is this how they always talk?”

Jeff considers for a moment and nods. “Yeah, pretty much. Okay let’s start from just after the diagonal, I have an idea, but we’ll have to see.”

Tessa glances at Scott and sighs. Together, she and Scott prepare to face certain pain as they skate to their mark. Just when this morning was going so well…

.::.::.::.

 

When Scott and Shannon arrive at the hotel where the fundraiser is being held, he quickly looks for his mom and dad, both of whom are clearly thrilled to be here. They mingle for a bit then Tessa’s dad and his Aunt Carol entice them into the ballroom to look at the exhibit the students put up for the fundraiser.

They enter through the side and follow him to the front where several partitions are set up, almost like a gallery exhibit. Mounted on the partitions are photos with descriptions as well as handwritten poems and paintings. The group splits, each drawn to what attracts their interest. Scott goes immediately to a very bright painting depicting a landscape during what appears to be rainy season. He looks at the inscription, eyebrows darting upward.

"Shannon, c'mere." She leaves a photo essay on one wall and comes over to look at the painting. "Wow, a thirteen-year-old did that? Crap. I can barely color in a coloring book."

"All I can do is write my name. My ability to do anything artistic is relegated primarily to the ice rink. This is insane." They walk together along the partition, taking in other peaces of art done by the students. They move into a photo series that depicts daily life in one of the rural villages, contributed by a student from Saskatchewan. He finds one photo he particularly enjoys, one of a child resting against a goat in a large field.

"Hey, Tessa took some of these," Shannon observes from her position several feet away. She has four or five photos in the whole display, but unlike many of the others, hers aren't for sale. "Has she always been into photography?"

"Yeah, when we were younger, she was much more introverted... shy. She didn't really come out of her shell until —" he stops in front of a photo of Tuba going up at an impressive height for a header, the goal keeper in the background has a comical 'oh shit' look on his face.

"Until after the first Olympics. She had to, actually. We had so many public events and then she had her second surgery and some other stuff happened, so... she toughened up her public persona a bit." Scott thinks about random things that happened after the first Olympics, her surgery, questions about her weight, and allegations of scandals with fellow skaters... it was pretty insane. 

"What about you though? Have you always been comfortable in the limelight?"

Scott shrugs, focused on another photo Tessa took of a woman leaning against a long wall, a toddler wrapped around her shoulders, with Lily inscribed in the corner. "Yeah, I guess so. I was rarely alone though; Tess was almost always there. We liked it better that way."

He doesn't feel Shannon's curious gaze as they move to another display housing sculptures and woodcarvings. Shannon becomes enamored of a sculpture to the point where she mentally starts trying to place it in her condo. 

"Mr. Virtue? How does this all work? Are these for sale or auction?"

"Call me Jim," he walks over and takes a look at the sculptures. "These are for sale. There was a debate whether or not to auction things, but someone somewhere put a kibosh on that."

Just then, the infamous Doctor Hightower enters, looking regal and fierce. Scott watches as she greets Tessa's father, but continues walking toward the stage without meeting any of the others. She has a five-person crew behind her, which Scott finds laughable, but apparently he's the only one. Eventually the group wanders outside into the grand foyer where there are several hightop tables set up with vested waiters wandering around carrying champagne.

Scott and his dad place orders and anchor a table, while the women go the restroom and Jim heads outside to make a few phone calls.

"This should be an interesting evening," his dad says as they receive their scotch on the rocks. 

Scott nods in agreement as they discuss arrangements for the winter show that’s actually coming to London this year. There are three stops in total, with the others in Winnepeg and British Colombia.

Glancing around, he takes in the diverse crowd. Many well-known figures in politics, philanthropy, and world affairs arrive through the entrance. As the rest of his party reassembles, Scott claims to need the restroom so he can explore. Tessa wasn't joking when she said this was going to be a big deal. Of course, he neglected to consider Dr. Hightower and her role in all this.

Random people spot him and ask for photos, of course he poses. Curious as to his whereabouts, Shannon eventually finds him chatting with new acquaintances. "Hey! Sorry. I got to wandering and yeah, that guy over there drove up from New York City and the woman beside him is a humanities professor at University of Guelph."

He glances over at Shannon, who's grinning at him. "You're having a good time, aren't you?"

"Yeah, actually, I am. All these people have these amazing stories. It's a much different assortment of people than I'm used to," he replies. "Wait, sorry. I'm not trying to ditch you or anything."

"No, no. Don't worry about it. I find it fascinating how easily you strike up conversations with people. I think your average bear isn't as interesting as you might think. You bring out the appealing parts."

Scott rolls his eyes, "That's ridiculous."

"No, it's not," Shannon smiles, threading her hand around his arm. "You have this... charisma. It's very attractive. But what's fun is watching you turn it on. You set people at ease and it makes it easier for them to open up to you."

At this point Scott is full on blushing, which he tries to hide by sipping his drink. "You can stop now."

"Oh, are you blushing? Is that cute little —" Shannon stops when she spots Tessa coming through the media melee. "Oh wow, there's Tessa. She looks..."

Amazing. "Nervous."

"I was going to say gorgeous, but to each his own," Shannon glances at Scott who's looking at Tessa with concern. "That dress is awesome."

Scott nods at Kate who is close behind, ignores Tessa’s dress ad grows more concerned with the way she's holding her shoulders. He'd place money on little half moon fingernail marks on her palms right now. He's stuck by how much responsibility has been thrust upon her in taking the lead on this whole endeavor. What's worse is she's in the throes of law school and preparing for a Christmas Show. If she hasn't thrown up already, she most likely will soon. 

But then looks down, takes a deep breath, closes her eyes for a moment, then straightens up. And then she transforms, strong as steel, but a smile of gold. She is followed closely by a photographer for some odd reason, and then quickly surrounded by patrons, hugging and laughing and full of ebullience. 

She spots them almost immediately and glides over gracefully, giving Scott a hug. "I need you to do me a favor," she whispers into his ear as random people start approaching. "I never got a chance to eat after practice earlier and I am about to eat my hand. I need sustenance."

"Anything?"

"No bananas."

"Done." 

They return five minutes later with a bag brimming with snacks and surreptitiously snag Tessa away from a group of donors. Within minutes she inhales an apple, a granola bar, and a handful of trail mix. Scott hands over chocolate milk, which Tessa downs in no time before she is quickly swept away again. "Thanks you guys!"

"Goodness," Shannon says, watching as Tessa is immediately swarmed. "How is she doing this? I don't get it. Like, this is a lot of pressure. In addition to everything else that is going on? I don't understand."

"Well, other than you, me, and maybe her Mom, no one knows about what happened at the wedding. Take a look at her; does she look like she's in pain? Like she's nervous?"

They both observe Tessa for a moment. She holds herself as all dancers do, with grace. She smiles and laughs and shakes hands, greeting everyone with warm enthusiasm.

"No. She looks perfect," Shannon offers, believing it. Head to toe, not a hair out of place, make-up is just right, and her floor-length dark green dress is to die for.

Before he can pose his theory on her appearance relating to her sanity, his mom walks up to them just then and tugs his arm. "We're heading inside. Your friend Matt sold us a calendar. Why are you holding a cat in your picture?”

Scott flushes, glancing at Shannon who turns to hide her smile. “Because they’re majestic creatures?”

Sighing his mother turns to the ballroom. “We're sitting with the Virtues close to the front." They discuss seating for a couple minutes until Scott feels a hand on his back and turns to see Tessa again, looking much less like a rabid teddy bear. She greets Alma who hugs her tightly, as well as a few others.

“What’s with the photographer?” Scott asks as he and Tessa get a moment to chat.

“What?” Tessa looks up, confused until she spots the photographer taking a picture of them. “He’s with the magazine. I don’t have time to do a photo shoot for my interview, so I just invited them along on today to see if he could get a couple shots.”

Scott nods, watching as guests filter into the ballroom. “So, got your speech ready?”

Tessa nods, chewing on the corner of her lip. “I cannot wait until tomorrow when this is all over. If I had known 18 months ago what I was getting myself into when I came up with this…”

“You’d have still done it,” Scott states as he spots Rafael gliding over. “Can you do me a favor and not let me get manhandled?”

“Sure, but where’s my calendar and where’s my surprise?”

Shannon walks up just before Rafael, handing Tessa her calendar. “He’s mister September. They even highlighted his birthday.”

Tessa opens to September, takes one look and throws her head back in laughter at what she sees. Scott shakes his head and grabs it from her, shutting the calendar.

“Wait! I didn’t get a good look!” Rafael frowns as he holds out his grabby hands. Shannon hands him his copy, laughing as Tessa mimics Scott’s pose by leaning against the wall.

“Holy hot pants, fireman!” Tessa practically cackles. “You look great! So great! But oh my wow, you can never ever make fun of me again, Scott Moir. Ever.”

“Hey, you’re the one who posed with two hotdogs, on a bicycle, in an awful outfit. Don’t blame me for your misguided attempts at looking sexy.”

Sobering, Tessa shuts her mouth, knowing Scott’s right. “Valid point. Fine, have you seen Jeff?”

“He texted me and said he’d be late,” Scott replies, fidgeting. Jeff may or may not be complicit in Scott’s surprise. Just then, Hailey walks up, sadly stealing Tessa away.

“See you all inside!” Tessa says as she follows Hailey down a back corridor, the photographer in quiet pursuit. Scott and Shannon go to the table they’re sharing with the Virtues and take a seat, ready for the evening to begin.

Several University of Toronto students take the stage together, introducing the video montage Henri showed on his computer at Tessa’s welcome home party. Hailey comes out and introduces Doctor Hightower and Jason Winthrop, who both explain the history of the organization and where they intend to take the non-profit. Lastly, Tessa comes on stage and for a second Scott feels time stop.

No mater what happens between them, she will always be able to take his breath away, just like she’s doing right now. He finally allows himself the chance to look at her and finds that she does indeed look absolutely stunning. She seems calm as she stands to the side of the stage in front of a screen which explains the intention of her initiative, what is needed, where the funds will go, and who will benefit.

She summarizes her case with this: “We live in a country blessed with privilege and opportunity. But these people are still trying to rebuild and form a new identity in the wake of decades of violence and terror. They are strong and willing and more than capable of doing this on their own, however difficult the road may seem. Instead of remaining ignorant of their hardships, complicit in hindering their growth, why don’t we provide support and opportunity?”

“Education is a luxury, not a priority. Safety, food, shelter — those are priorities. Remember that when you leave this evening, you have a home to return to, you have children to kiss goodnight, you have jobs to prepare for, schools to send your children. Imagine not having any of that. Imagine rebuilding after losing it all.”

“I had a mentor, someone very dear to me, whose sole focus was empowering and enriching her community. When I was throwing out ideas of a vocational center back in January, she asked me, ‘If not you, then who?’ meaning, if I don’t do something, then who will? And really, that’s what it comes down to: ideas are nothing without the impetus to put them into motion. She was my driving force, my north star in that country. She sacrificed herself,” Tessa’s voice cracks, but she pushes on, “for her loved ones, so that we could carry on in her stead."

Tessa glances around for a moment as she walks in front of a picture of the completed primary school that she took the helm on, the entire group standing proudly in front.

“Our mission is simple: to build and employ a vocational center to foster growth within the community; to educate, enrich, and empower. But it cannot be done by our efforts alone, so please ask yourselves tonight, if not you, then who? Thank you all for coming out, please enjoy your evening.”

Applause erupts as Tessa makes her way to the side of the stage and out of sight. Scott beams brightly, so proud of her, so very proud. Other than that one moment, she made no explicit reference to Sister Rosa, nor did she show any strain from speaking. Everyone takes their seats and settles in as the wait staff immediately attends to the tables, serving the first course.

Feeling a buzz in his pocket, Scott pulls out his phone and smiles. Jeff is en route to the hotel with the surprise. Excellent.

Several minutes later, Tessa emerges from some inconspicuous door and takes a seat quietly at their table. Scott looks at her closely for a moment, noticing that she’s glassy eyed.

“You okay?” he mouths across the table at her. She nods, pointing at Hailey who’s taking a seat at a nearby table of students, then makes a motion with an invisible shot glass.

“Celebratory shot,” she replies. Scott nods, grinning at her. A jazz trio from the university starts up in the corner, keeping the atmosphere warm and merry, playing the occasional Christmas song.

Chatter goes around the table as the food continues to be brought out, but Scott keeps glancing over at Tessa, checking to see how she’s doing. As she talks with his aunt and her father, all seems well. Shannon and his mother are having a deep discussion over whether or not it’s lame for Norma Jean to wear clothing, while Scott can’t help but feel distracted.

Tessa looks up at him somewhere towards the end of the meal and they have what seems like a five-minute discussion without even talking. By then end, he knows that they’re going to skate in the morning, that she wants a hot bath, and that he needs ice for his butt. Matt comes over with his very pregnant wife and bids Tessa farewell, stating that the missus needs her beauty sleep.

Just before they leave, Matt pulls Tessa over to the firefighters table and has her pose with the fellas. Laughing, Tessa complies, sitting in the center as Matt and Joey kiss her cheeks, growing red.

Scott spots Jeff entering the ballroom with the surprise, edging on the outskirts of the room as other guests are collecting their things to depart. Jeff grins at Scott as their surprise hobbles past and sweeps an unsuspecting Tessa into a hug.

“Aimée! What are you doing here!?!” Tessa exclaims as Aimée twirls around, Tessa’s feet lifted off the ground. “Oh my God is this real right now, I can’t believe it! You’re here!”

Approximately five minutes of disbelief, then tears and whale noises, more hugging ensues. Scott returns to the table with Shannon, making room for Jeff, Rafael, and Hailey, who’ve all meandered over. They observe this is rapt silence, marveling as the two women laughing and cry simultaneously. Tessa introduces Aimée to her parents and then everyone else at the table.

“This is Aimée, she kept me alive. She is one of the greatest people you will ever meet.”

They all settle around the table as plates are brought out for Aimée and Jeff, who picked Aimée up at the airport. Aimée explains that she’s only in town for a few days, but she wouldn’t dare pass up the opportunity to support Tessa’s project.  
Scott shrugs out of his blazer and slings his arm around the back of Shannon’s chair, watching Tessa and Aimée share stories. He’s not sure what it is, but he feels… uncomfortable. Lost somehow.

Then as Aimée says something to make Tessa laugh, her great big laugh, one that he hasn’t heard in the greater part of a year, he realizes what it is that he’s lost. It’s what he’s taken for granted all these years: being the one person Tessa trusts enough to whom she tells all her secrets, her confidant. But as he watches Tessa lean close to Aimée and whisper something, chatter going all around them, he knows that he is no longer that person for Tessa.

He’s no longer her best friend.

This is what he gave up that day in May. Not her love, not a relationship. But the way Tessa glances over at Aimée before sharing a story, the way they finish each other’s sentences, the way they clearly, openly care about each other. He doesn’t have that anymore, at least not with her. And he never will.

Scott’s never felt more jealous in his life. He thought he was jealous the first time he caught her making out with some frat boy in Michigan, or the time he walked in on her with that skier, he thought he was jealous when they were in Nice and she chose to walk with her boyfriend instead of him. But no, that all pales in comparison because he knew at the end of the day, nothing could top being the best friend. Nothing.

Feeling the need for some air, he places a quick kiss on Shannon’s cheek and tells her he’s going to the bathroom. Standing, he glances around and realizes most the room is empty, save for their table. Most of the staff has begun to clean up, the students having already disassembled most the partitions. He goes to the restroom and stays in there longer than necessary, trying to appear unaffected, but failing every time when he looks in the mirror.

Once he takes a step out and into the corridor, he finds Aimée waiting for him outside, looking displeased and like she really wants to hit him.

“Do you know what you did to her? Seriously, do you know?”

“I have a pretty accurate idea, Aimée.”

“I doubt it, Scott.” Aimée paces back and forth in front of him. “When she got to Uganda she was this complete shell of a person! You destroyed her! My God it was miserable! She didn’t smile, she didn’t laugh, and she barely ate. All she did was workout, read, and work on the schools. It’s like you took the life out of her.”

“Aimée…” Scott shakes his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. He doesn’t want to hear this right now. “This isn’t going to serve any purpose other than make me feel worse than I already do. Tessa and I have reconciled and we’re trying to move forward.”

“But you don’t deserve to! Why is she doing this? Why are you still here?”

“Because I asked her to let me back into her life. Because I still need her. Because she’s part of me.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s the truth!” Scott replies hotly. “Listen, believe me, don’t believe me, I don’t care. All I know is that Tessa is trying to heal, but she can’t do it on her own and I bet you feel much the same way as she does. The only way you two are going to get past this, past your grief, is to get through it together. That’s why I brought you here, Aimée.”

Aimée has stopped pacing and is leaning against the wall across from him, shooting him daggers. She swipes at her watery eyes and sniffs, her gaze pointed downward as she calms herself. “Which I appreciate… by the way.”

Scott shoves his hands in his pockets, scowling. “I can tell.”

Aimée pushes off from the wall and sighs, holding out her hand in truce. She looks up at him with her dark perspective eyes and shakes her head, whispering: “What are you doing, Scott Moir?”

“I wish I knew,” he replies honestly. “All I do know is that she’s finally laughing again and that’s because of you. Right now, she needs… she needs her best friend, and I’m no longer that person.”

The thoughtful look of Aimée gives him makes it feel like he’s given a part of himself away, which in a sense, he has. He is trusting someone else to love Tessa the same way he has for the past twenty years and that’s not a simple cross to bear.

But then she shakes her head, her sad smile belying the truth. “I disagree. I’m what she needs right now. But you? If you’re still here after the shit you two went through — I think that says something. She’s a bigger person than me. I don’t know how she’s doing it, honestly.”

Neither does he, but he suspects keeping busy is part of the diversion. When they return to the ballroom moments later, Tessa takes one look between them and knows immediately that something has happened, but neither one will ever share what passed between them in that corridor.

Late that night as every one parts ways, Tessa gives Scott a tight hug, whispering, “Thank you. So very much.”

Scott kisses her cheek, winks knowingly at Aimée, then heads up to his hotel room with Shannon.

.::.

A couple nights after the fundraiser, Scott swings by and picks up some Chinese food for dinner and heads to Shannon's. He's been slowly bringing his stuff over, hoping that it won't sting so much when he finally rips off the bandaid and moves permanently.

Well, sort of. He'll be splitting his week between Toronto and London. Fridays, Saturdays, Sundays in Toronto, the rest in London. He's gone part-time in London at the fire station, but the biggest sacrifice will be taking a step back from flipping homes with Paul. He'd be a poor partner and wouldn't be able to provide all the requisite time. 

He and Shannon get home around the same time, grinning at each other as she tosses her scrubs into her washer and heads to take a shower. He grabs a couple plates and pulls out all the cartons, setting them on the table. Shannon returns shortly thereafter, having spent enough time to wash off the grime and feel semi clean.

When she takes a seat at the table she notices only one fortune cookie and looks up at Scott, suspicious. "You didn't happen to eat your fortune cookie early... did you?"

Scott, looking as innocent as a guilty puppy, chews once and swallows. "No!"

"Oh! You cheater!" Shannon tosses her socks at him as she moves in on the spring rolls. They start chatting about their days, she talks of a doctor she works with who drives her insane, he talks about dropping by Charlie's to hand out with his niece who's home sick from school.

"You really love them a lot, don't you," Shannon observes warmly.

"Of course I do," Scott replies. "They're the greatest kids ever."

"Right, because you've met every kid in the world?"

"Exactly, I'm a perfectly good judge of all the kids that have ever existed," Scott grins. "I mean... that's not to say that... future kids won't surpass them, but..."

Shannon stops mid-chew and gives him a wide-eyed blink. Clearing her throat, her brows draw together. "I sense that there is something you want to talk about."

"Well, yes as a matter of fact," Scott nods, glad that she has finally finally taken his bait. She's been playing dense for a few weeks now, but he's done everything but outright ask her. If he were smart, he'd apply his newfound interviewing skills to this.

"Kids. I want them. Every time I bring it up, you hedge the question. What gives?"

Setting down her chopsticks, Shannon lets out a sigh and leans back in her chair. "Yes, I'm well aware I've been dodging it. There's a reason for that... I need to tell you why Stuart and I got a divorce."

"Wha?" Scott frowns, thrown by this unexpected course.

"Let's see... uh during my last year of med school, Stuart was clerking for a Supreme Court justice in D.C. We didn't get to see each other very often during that time. I just came off my surgical rotation and he surprised me one weekend to visit. I had... due to female reasons, I was switching out my birth control and forgot until the second day that I wasn't on any. Speed up six weeks. I find out I'm pregnant."

Scott remains quiet as she talks, picking at her nails as she explains her story, clearly not wanting to relive the tale. 

"I spent two weeks trying to figure out what to do. I knew for a fact that Stuart would want me to keep it, but I wasn't in a good place to be having a baby. I was in my last year of school, I was clinically depressed, and I was on the outs with my mother."

"So... I went ahead and got an abortion without telling him. As with anytime you lie to a loved one about something like that, it started to eat at me and we started arguing a lot. And then... my mother came out in support of making abortion illegal in Georgia."

Bowing her head, Shannon takes a moment trying to keep it together. "Of course, someone somewhere, leaked that her very own daughter got an abortion and how can she enforce laws when she can't even handle her own daughter?"

Scott leans forward in his chair, reaching out for her hand. She gives it to him, ice-cold. "That's how Stuart found out I had an abortion. Actually, no. His mother called him and asked why his wife was killing her grandchildren."

"Oh, yikes."

"Yeah, like I've mentioned in the past, his parents are powerful, my mother... is my mother. Something that I did during a rough patch in my life, blew up in my face in the worst way. The thing is, I disagreed with my mother wholeheartedly over the anti-abortion legislation and said as much when the newspaper interviewed me for a follow-up."

"Oh no," Scott frowns, knowing where this is going.

"Right. Yeah so that didn't go over well. I used to have a very bad temper and would act out as a result. I've actually gone through a lot of counseling to get it under control. But that doesn't change how badly I hurt Stuart." Shannon squeezes Scott's hand and pulls back. "His family was angry at me, he was angry at me, practically everyone I knew was angry at me for something. So, I called up my Dad and he told me to come up here. Stuart and I tried to reconcile for a brief period, but we're both stubborn mules and couldn't compromise. A year later, we were divorced."

Scott remains quiet as she silently swipes at a tear, letting out a shuddering breath. "I spent a solid two years completely miserable. I cannot describe the bone aching darkness. My dad did what he could, but... I couldn't seem to get my head above water. But then I met you..."

Looking up at him, she offers a broken smile and Scott feels his chest squeeze painfully as she continues. "Things started to get better, even if I had to deal with everyone telling me that you were either a player or in love with Tessa. I don't know, just... everything about you just made things not seem so rough. There's a genuine goodness about you, Scott. I see it when others are around you and I feel it too. You make the best out of things and you work hard and you're so dedicated."

"Shannon—" Scott shakes his head, shrugging off her compliments. "That's... that's all well and good, but you know I have a temper too. You know how angry I get sometimes."

"Yes, but you've gotten much better at not taking it out on others. You're still willing to grow and improve. That's admirable."

"Yeah but..." He shakes his head, feeling heavy all of a sudden. "... Have you talked with Stuart any? It's pretty awful that that's how things ended."

"It wasn't completely awful. Stuart works for my mother now," Shannon smiles, in a 'how do you like them apples?' kind of way. "So that's that."

"I guess so," Scott nods. He pushes his half-full plate away, not too hungry anymore. He waits a couple minutes, watching as Shannon pushes some rice around on her plate, deep in thought. 

"You don't want kids, do you?" His voice is quiet like he's afraid of the actual words.

Glancing up at him, she frowns. "Ever since we watched Charlie's kids, I knew that it was something you wanted. I've been trying to figure myself out since that time and honestly, I'm no closer to making up my mind now than when I was a month ago."

"But you still wanted me to move in?" He's not angry, his voice is level, trying to stay calm at the moment.

"I thought... I don't know. I thought maybe it would make me feel differently, having you around all the time. I just know that I like kids. But I don't have that... desire? The need to have them. I never have."

They sit in silence for several minutes, going more morose as the time passes. Finally he makes a decision. "I see where you were coming from, I do. But I don't think me moving in with you is going to fix the situation."

They watch each other for a few moments, both growing more uncomfortable. "How about you think on it a little bit longer?” Scott proposes. ”I've got to head down to Michigan for a couple days anyway. Let's take this time to reset; figure out what this is what we want. Okay?"

"Are you sure that's the best idea right now? Walking away?"

Scott pushes back from the table and starts to collect his food, suddenly finding it hot and suffocating inside, needing to escape.

"I'm not walking away Shannon, but you and I both know that this is one of those things that will make or break us. I'd rather come to a decision with my head on straight, knowing that you're confident in you're decision. You just dropped a lot of information on me and I don't believe anything I do right now will have a good outcome."

She nods, watching as he collects her stuff as well and stores it away in the fridge. He grabs his coat and keys and walks over to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before taking his leave. 

When he gets in his car, he frowns at the thought that it's nearly packed full of stuff that he was going to unload after dinner. Damnit. Damnit. Dammmmmit. He punches the steering wheel several times, angry. 

Scott texts Chiddy to let him know he's coming to Michigan a day early and that he's leaving first thing in the morning. Chiddy replies that his couch his prepped and ready. Driving home in absolute silence, Scott parks outside his place but remains in his car until he grows cold and snow starts to fall.

When he goes inside, he lies flat on the floor, Norma Jean curled by his side. He stays awake the whole night, feeling nauseas and angry and sad and irritated, sometimes all at once. He gets a raging headache, but does nothing except remain on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

He drives to Chiddy's once dawn breaks, arriving a few hours later. Chiddy greets him with a wide smile followed by a concerned frown.

"Woah, what's up? You look like someone ran over your reindeer."

Scott scowls as he follows Chiddy inside dropping his bag and suddenly very sleepy. "Can I take a nap for a bit? I don't feel so hot."

"Of course," Chiddy replies grabbing Scott a blanket and a pillow. Ten minutes later, Scott is out. 

It takes him a day of brooding and irritableness to explain his problem to Chiddy.

"Wow."

"I know."

"I mean... wow man." Chiddy shakes his head, pushing off from the boards. They're at his training facility where they're running through the choreography of the opening for the Christmas show. He decided to do it at the last minute and is learning the choreography for the opener since he'll be unable to train with the group.

Chiddy stops in the center of the rink and spins around for a moment. "How the hell did you make it this far without ever talking about that stuff?"

"Easily. We both avoided talking about both of those things because it's been a rocky time since the onset."

Scott would love to think the trip was productive for him mentally, but other than debating how much of an idiot he is, Chiddy wasn’t much help. Guessing he deserves that, Scott shuts his mouth and broods. He and Chiddy participate in a charity hockey tournament that weekend and drink a lot of light beer since Chiddy is still competing: “Gotta watch my girlish figure.”

The following night, Scott gets home and finds Shannon's car in his drive. He enters quietly, shutting the door behind him. The television is off and the living room is empty. Scott heads to his room and pulls off his clothes, finding Shannon's petite form in his bed wearing one of his sweatshirts, Norma Jean curled against her feet.

He brushes his teeth then climbs into bed behind her, wrapping around her body, burrowing his nose at the back of her neck. Breathing deeply, he thinks she smells foreign to him; that her scent doesn't make him feel like home. It never really has.

The next morning, he wakes up and finds her awake and facing him, watching him sleep.

"That's creepy you know," Scott croaks as he wipes the sleep from his eyes.

"You do it all the time," Shannon whispers as she reaches out for his hand, twining his fingers with hers and pulling it to her chest.

"That's because you're pretty and fun to look at."

"Mmmm," she smiles, she runs her foot down his leg. “Such a charmer.”

A moment later the smile slides from her face and is replaced by a serious look. "This isn't going to work out, is it?"

"You still don't want kids?" Scott asks softly.

An imperceptible shake and the look of heartbreak: "No."

He reaches out and traces a finger down her cheek then pulls her close to him, tucking her head beneath his chin. "That's it... that's it then."

They stay wrapped in each other's arms, breathing slowly, mourning the slow death of a doomed relationship. They decide to stay together until past the holidays, wanting each other’s comfort and truly not looking forward to separating. After the holidays, they’ll figure it out. For sure.

Shannon doesn’t know it then, but she’ll become the eventual godmother of his third child. Begrudgingly, of course.

.::.::.::.

Trepidation. Yes, that is appropriate for what Shannon is feeling. She arrives with Paul, Sarah and Meg at the Budweiser Gardens for the Winter Wonderland on Ice show, amazed by the sheer volume of people. On the front of the building is an absolutely gigantic banner of Scott and Tessa in some intimate pose that looks graceful and loving and it makes Shannon uncomfortable. On the other side is a picture of Patrick Chan and Kurt Browning, spinning in mid air. Lastly, there’s just a strip of lettering, indicating that Diana Krall is the musical guest that night.

“We’re so lucky it’s local this year. Last year it was in Prince George and Alberta. I think it’s because it’s the twenty-fifth anniversary so they’re going to bigger venues,” Meg says as Paul and Sarah weave through the crowd, searching for the Moirs. “Guys remember how crazy it was when we hosted Worlds?”

“That was the worst,” Sarah replies, looking back at Shannon. “Traffic was awful, absolutely awful. Lots of weird people in town. But goodness, the shows. Remember Carmen?”

“I remember feeling very awkward that I was sitting with my family watching that. I mean… remember that lift at the end? Heh… carpet muncher,” Paul mutters as he’s handed a brochure. Shannon takes one as well, amazed that once again, Tessa and Scott are on the cover.

“Are Tessa and Scott the headliners of this?” Shannon inquires, trying to hide her confusion.

“Well, yeah,” Meg nods sensibly. “In ice skating, they’re kind of a big deal. Not huge, but… they’re pretty accomplished. They’re like the ones new pairs get compared to. It’ll be awesome. Trust me.”

“I KNEW IT!” Sarah exclaims as she looks at the brochure Paul is holding. “I knew they were going to skate Hallelujah again. Scott kept humming it the other day.”

“Hallelujah isn’t exactly heart warming, is it? Kind of a bummer song.” Paul points, giving Shannon a chance to see. “Yeah, but look at what else they’re dancing to.”

“Pas de deux from The Nutcracker?” Shannon thinks back to the last time she saw The Nutcracker a couple years ago. “At least that one is festive, right?”

“Yeah,” Meg nods, frowning. “I think I’d rather they dance Fly Me to the Moon than Hallelujah though.”

“Seriously!?” Paul shakes his head. “No way. Fly Me to the Moon was awesome, but Hallelujah? It gets you right here,” he presses his fist to his chest.

“Do you need a moment?” Sarah smirks at Paul. “Oh look, there’s Alma. C’mon let’s go get our seats.”

Shannon follows, feeling a little out of place. Granted she and Scott are still together, but not for much longer. More like, friends with benefits at this point. Spending this time with these people, especially his family is tough. They’ve all become invested in each other and knowing that this time next month they probably won’t say much to her is hard.

Suddenly she wishes her dad were here so they could sit in the corner and laugh at the ridiculous costumes and comment on the bad music selections. Upon reaching their section, Shannon is swept into the chaos that is the Moir family — hugging Scott’s brothers, high-fiving his niece and nephew, and chatting with their wives.

Meg, who appointed herself as Shannon’s guide into all things ice-skating, leads her down to their premium seats. “Thank God for Scott and Tessa. Otherwise we’d be sitting up in the nose-bleed section.”

“Did you hear it’s sold out? It’s practically a Diana Krall concert with the added luxury of ice skaters.” Alma comments as the family takes their seats, filling a large amount of seats. “I mean, I guess a lot of it has to do with the fact that this town loves a good ice show, but then part of me wonders…”

Shannon nods in understanding, knowing the implication: whether this town is appreciative of the skaters they have in Scott and Tessa. Sarah and Paul slide past Shannon and sit to her right, offering her some snacks they scored from one of the vendors they know. Taking a pack of twizzlers, she settles in as Meg and Sarah commence explaining who the skaters are and how the show works.

Knowing that Scott has been prepping for this show for the past couple months is one thing, but finally getting to see it come to life is another. She looks at the festive holiday sets, impressed with how elaborate everything is, hoping this isn’t as cheesy as she suspects it might be.

“Oh, it’ll be cheesy, don’t get me wrong,” Meg grins, as though reading her mind. “But that’s part of the greatness. It’s like watching the Sound of Music. You just have to embrace it.”

Sarah nods, adding: “The company that runs this program is a lot better than the other one that tours the country. These people are legit Russians, so they know what’s up.”

Paul nods in agreement, smiling. “Still, ice skating is inherently mushy. So any thing that you see is wonderfully fabricated. I used to mock Scott relentlessly when we were younger, because he’d be dancing around on the ice with Tessa, looking like a —“

“An attractive man who lucked out in his skating partner,” Sarah interrupts, smacking Paul on the arm.

“Did I hear you correctly Paul?” Danny Moir leans forward. “Were you just mocking us ice dancers again?”

Paul leans away out of Danny’s reach. “Of course not. I was just saying what remarkable athletes you are. Such prowess. Such strength!”

“That’s what I thought,” Danny says, winking at Shannon who’s rolling her eyes at their antics. The lights flash with the five-minute warning, calling all the patrons to their seats. Shannon catches the Virtues taking a seat next to Aunt Carol, one of Tessa’s brothers and his wife as well.

The lights darken and cheers erupt in excitement and Shannon tries not to laugh at how lame this is. Then again, she dressed up as Princess Leia for comic-con three years ago. Yeah she’s cool. Shannon swears she’s trying to be a good sport about it. Really, she is. But then she sees the fog lifting up from one of those machines and she nearly loses it.

She presses her hands to her cheeks and tries not to giggle as music starts to play. The song is familiar but she can’t place it.

“Ohhhh! Once Upon a December!” Meg squeals. “I love this song. I love Anastasia! Oh look, it’s Tessa!”

To deafening applause, there she is, oddly dressed in what looks to be like a ragamuffin dress. Strange. Shannon tracks Tessa’s movement around the ice, alone at first, then other skaters come out in systematic fashion, wearing long flowing dresses and trim tailored suits with tails. Then Scott sweeps out on the ice and weaves around the dancers waltzing around. Shannon grins at Meg who is so wholly enthralled by the whole experience that it’s infectious. Meg, Shannon decides, is a human exclamation point.

Clearly Scott’s trying to reach Tessa who’s weaving the other way, not ‘seeing’ him. When the climax of the music hits, Tessa’s ragamuffin dress is torn away to reveal a beautiful dark red dress and Scott slots behind her, lifting her like the other skaters, much to the delight of the audience. The song ends and everyone is happy and it’s gorgeous and Shannon’s clapping like a loon.

Introductions are made, saving Scott and Tessa until the end, which is good because the entire place goes insane and holy geez what is going on!? These are just people. Scott snores on occasion and makes lame jokes. Tessa is nearly OCD in her perfectionism. But right now? They look like royalty and everyone else simply pales in comparison.

Seriously though, they glow. Perhaps they bathed in fairy dust before coming out; she’s not sure. It’s like watching a car accident in slow motion with two beautiful cars and she can’t look away, even though it hurts to look at them. She suspects the Luminati is behind this and will discuss her theories with her father, post haste.

The dancers leave the stage and the next act arrives, but Shannon finds herself unfamiliar with the dancers and not as interested. She is completely taken by Chiddy’s performance of I’ll be Home for Christmas, standing with many others at the completion of his performance, whistling and cheering. That really flexible Sawyer guy comes out, and then Kurt Browning and his bald little self completely charm her and the rest of the audience, skating to You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch. He’s a class act, that guy. And Jeff! Oh Jeff, she likes his smile. It warms her heart.

Finally, the familiar music of the Pas de deux begins and Shannon holds her breath, seemingly frozen for the entire four and a half minutes. It’s so quiet she could hear a pin drop, completely taken by their performance. She nearly forgets they’re on the ice several times, due to the extreme balletic nature of their movements. Hands down the best part is when Tessa does this spin, from one corner to the opposite while Scott dances circles around her, possibly to ensure she doesn’t fall over, Shannon isn’t sure. 

“Holy shit, that was like… thirty revolutions,” Meg murmurs, pressing her hands to her face as the coda plays, bringing them to a close and one last lift.

It looks insane and she doesn’t understand the physics of it because Tessa is balancing upside down on one hand braced on Scott’s bent leg while he grasps that arm, and oh by the way, there’s only one leg touching the ice. She’s going to have to ask them to show her how they do it later because she cannot wrap her mind around it.

And then everyone is on their feet and Shannon is too, because they were every bit as impressive as Meg made them out to be. Wow, just…

“That was amazing. Absolutely amazing,” Sarah yells over the crowd while Paul nods in agreement. Shannon looks back and sees Alma crying, which isn’t surprising, then sees Tessa’s mom doing the same and as a matter of fact a lot of people are.

Just after is intermission, which is perfect because Shannon gets to learn more about everything she just watched. It’s very beneficial, even if she doesn’t fully understand all the details. What she does get is that everyone did great, but Scott and Tessa were phenomenal. 

The show resumes with another group number, this one Charlie Brown’s Christmas themed. It’s cute and cheesy, just like Shannon expected, but it’s fun and light and she can handle that. She honestly can’t remember what happens after that because it all becomes something of a blur.

She does remember appreciating the butt enhancing pants the men wear, very much so.

By the time Hallelujah rolls around, Shannon cannot deny being genuinely excited. It’s very fun watching people she knows skate on the ice the way they do. She also cannot deny that it’s a bit awkward because they skate on the ice the way they do.

When Scott and Tessa skate into position facing each other a few inches apart, she knows that this, this is what everyone talks about when they say Scott and Tessa belong together. They haven’t even begun to skate and it already feels… too intimate. Like perhaps this is between Scott and Tessa and everyone else just happens to be there.

In a moment of weakness, she glances up at the jumbotron screen and sees Scott’s expression, the way he’s looking at Tessa. Like she is adored. Treasured. Like she is the sun and he’s been in the dark for far too long. And then it flashes to Tessa who’s looking at him like he’s the brightest star in her favorite constellation.

Before Shannon can allow the tightness in her chest and the lump in her throat to overtake her, the music beings, quiet and haunting and utterly captivating. If she thought the arena was quiet before… she’s afraid to blink too heavily in fear that it might ruin the moment. The song itself is almost an anti-Christmas song by its sheer melancholy nature, the sense of loss and even grief. Shannon wonders who decided to bring it back — Scott or Tessa.

Every single gesture, every detail, is filled with meaning and care. When Shannon blinks, she feels a tear roll down her face, surprising herself. She’s always been a crier — she’s the one that cries at the animal shelter commercials — but goodness, this is a bit much.

By the conclusion of the piece, Scott and Tessa are spinning in one of those gravity-defying moves and then he releases her. Despite knowing she oughtn’t, Shannon glances at the jumbotron where it’s zoomed in on Scott’s face and then Tessa’s, both still lost in the moment, staring at each other.  
Yeah, this is too much to handle. Just a bit. Swallowing hard, Shannon blinks hard and swipes the tears from her face as they ‘fall out of character’ and do a quick bow to uproarious applause and sniffles.

As the concluding act emerges with each of the skaters, Shannon feels a strange sensation deep in her chest. It’s one of… relief? It takes her by surprise, but she feels a sense of calm in knowing that this is what people mean when they say Scott and Tessa belong together. She just needed to see it to understand.

She gets it now. Too bad she got caught in the crosshairs.

Then she remembers that she and Scott aren’t even really together anymore, and is thankful that they have a legitimate reason to break up that is completely unrelated to Tessa. She dodged a bullet on that one.

The final act is showy and fun and well choreographed. Halfway through, Kurt then Scott and Tessa skate out last, having changed over into a different costume? Is that the word? Whatever. And the cheers are even louder as those three fly down the ice executing insane footwork in synchrony. Finally, Diana Krall takes a bow as the skaters clap for her and the band, who then resume their seats and play the skaters off the ice.

Everyone around Shannon starts rehashing the second half like they’re talking about an exciting play:

“It seemed different. Good different. Like they changed some of the choreography,” Meg states, look at Sarah for clarification. “Did Hallelujah seem different to you?”

“No idea. I just wish they hadn’t made me cry, now my mascara is everywhere!”

“Oh, mine too,” Paul jokes as he glances over at Shannon. “So, now that you know what all the fuss is about, what’d you think of the show?”

Shannon’s slightly shell-shocked, but is utterly impressed. It was pretty astounding. Strange glowing Canadian Royalty and all.

“A couple things, one: I think y’all need to come with me to Comic-Con next year, because if you like this, you’ll definitely like weird nerd things. Two: who do I need to speak to about placing a bet on when Scott and Tessa will get together?”

Silence and blank stares meet her genuine inquiry.

.::.::.::.::.


	23. 15.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when she was thinking of getting a dog, she got a Scott instead.

.::.::.::.

As soon as Tessa and Scott return from their brief travels with the Holiday on Ice show, they immediately jump into several events in celebration of the season. Tessa had the ability to defer writing her exams until the first week of January in order to do the shows. In retrospect, she regrets this decision because she cannot rest easy during this holiday period, however brief.

Regardless, she's sworn to herself that she'll make the best of this time, because Aimée so kindly reminded her that there's nothing like never having a Christmas again to make one have a newfound respect for it.

The weather has been typically snowy and chilly, but not in such a way that makes being outside absolutely abhorrent. She and Scott will host the lighting of the city's Christmas tree this evening with free tickets to London Community Orchestra's holiday performance afterward. Scott's not too big on the orchestra, but he finds that he's not feeling too festive this season and hopes the exposure will put him more in the spirit.

His parents will be in attendance as well as Tessa's, but that's no surprise as hers have season tickets to all the orchestra performances. His parents would rather throw all that money down on quality seats for hockey, but to each his own.

He parks outside a coffee shop close to the city square and heads inside to wait for Tessa. They both agreed to get something hot to drink before they have to stand outside for an hour. He orders and then settles with their drinks in a chair near a gas fire, which reminds him that he needs to drop off some firewood for Tom.

A few minutes later, Tessa arrives, her nose red and eyes glassy from walking into the wind. She walks directly in front of the fireplace, warming up her backside.

"Remind me again why we agreed to do this?"

Tessa alternates to her front side, practically shoving her hands in the fire. "We both wanted to participate in something festive?"

"Or it's because you were going to the performance anyway, and I have a night off."

Tessa nods, unbuttoning her coat but not taking it off as she takes a seat across from him. "I thought you were going to bring Norma Jean? I have her Christmas present in my car."

"I was, but then where is she supposed to go during the performance? Apparently dogs don't care much for the orchestra," Scott smirks as Tessa rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her drink.

"Mmmm so good. Thanks," she says as she leans her head back against the chair, letting her eyes close for a moment. Since Aimée left, she’s been much happier and smiley as of late, proving that Aimée was the medicine Tessa needed. Scott watches her for a beat before extending his leg and knocking her stocking-covered knee with his shoe.

"What's up? Tired?"

Tessa nods, eyes closed. "Studying non-stop since we got back. My brain hurts. That and my parents were bickering earlier. What is it about parents arguing that stresses one out so?"

"Because we are our parents and the possibility of ending up like them — happy or unhappy — is terrifying in a dull, distant way."

Pulling her head up, she gives Scott a raised eyebrow. "I'm going to take that to mean yours haven't been in the holiday spirit either."

"Nah. Finances are tight right now and they were supposed to go to St. Lucia or somewhere for Christmas, but a series of events — we had flooding in the basement, then my dad's transmission blew, oh and Mom would rather have the kitchen renovated than go somewhere. So... it's been a struggle."

"Weren't they supposed to renovate last year?"

"Yeah, but they couldn't agree on anything so they pushed it off and now they actually really do need to renovate since the flooding originated from shoddy plumbing and stuff."

"Tough situation all around. Mine were just bickering for the sake of doing it," Tessa sighs, taking a sip from her cup.You know SOI airs tomorrow, right?"

"Really? No," Scott shakes his head. "I actually kinda forgot."

Tessa watches him for a moment, squinting at him in thought. "You okay? You seem..."

Scott shrugs, looking down at his mug. He hasn't told her about Shannon. He's not sure if he will. Maybe just let her find out through the grapevine or something. How do you tell the person you broke that you screwed up? He and Shannon are still talking, still getting along well, but there's a stiffness to it, the knowledge that he made a huge sacrifice on behalf of their future and it blew up in his face big time.

He feels raw and edgy as a result and Christmas isn’t helping. Still, he doesn't regret the relationship; he just regrets that it didn't work out. Blinking hard, he glances up at Tessa who's looking at him like she can read his mind, but she doesn't say anything further, just gives him a faint smile.

They remain quiet for a few minutes, listening to others in the shop talking to friends and family. They exchange conspirational glances when the barista starts singing along to Nat King Cole, knowing that it's their cue to depart. Tessa buttons up her coat and reaches inside her purse, handing Scott two packs of hand warmers without saying anything, then grabs her marshmallow almond mocha monstrosity and leads the way outside.

It's still daylight, but the sun is beginning to set. There's a winter storm moving in, but at the moment it's rich purple and orange hued as the sun makes it's decent. Scott and Tessa walk along the sidewalk toward the square, passing shoppers and many who are gathering for the tree-lighting ceremony. Scott turns to say something to Tessa, but finds her stopped in her tracks, watching the sunset. Grinning, he walks back and reaches out for her scarf, tugging her over to a bench.

They remain seated for the next five minutes, not speaking, not touching, but sharing in this moment as they watch the sun dip lower and lower, the sky growing darker and more colorful. It's in the absence of anything else that Scott feels himself slowly start to warm to the season. Perhaps it’s the comfort of having Tessa near; this shared experience of taking this time to enjoy what's around them is what Scott will remember. Oddly enough, it's the closest he's felt to her since she got back, being offered this opportunity to take in one of life's small pleasures with her.

After it sets, Scott and Tessa rise from the bench and make their way to the square, still quiet, but not so forlorn. They hover near a hot chocolate stand where there's been several heat lamps placed all around with throngs of people huddled beneath for warmth. Chatting quietly, Scott learns that Tessa just completed all her Christmas shopping and is feeling pretty proud of herself.

"I've only covered my niece and nephew. Everyone else is getting a hug and a lump of coal," Scott states, standing close with those huddled around the heat lamp.

"Alright Mr. Grinch, I'm going to get you in the spirit, so be ready for some great tidings of comfort and joy," Tessa grins up at him, making him roll his eyes.

Their phones buzz at the same time, causing them to check the screen. It's a shot of Patrick, his girlfriend, Jeff and his husband, as well as Joannie and her fiancé with Kaitlyn and Andrew and several others. It looks like they're at Kaitlyn and Andrew's home, which Tessa finds both lovely and irritating at once. The text reads, _Wish you guys were here. See you at New Years!_

Tessa glances up at Scott. "I can't believe it's been years since I've been to Paul and Sarah's for a New Years Eve Party. I'm glad Paul invited everyone he could think of. It'll make it more enjoyable."

"You sound like you're in desperate need of a party, Ms. Virtue," Scott hums as they start walking to the tree.

"I'm in need of a good evening with friends," Tessa replies softly. "Besides, we need to offer moral support to Kaitlyn and Andrew, I can't believe they got thrashed like that at the finals."

"Seriously. I mean, they won the last two years in a row, and rightly so. But..." Scott shakes his head, his voice dropping low. "Do you think... do you think it's happening to them? What happened to us?"

Tessa shares a dark look with Scott, frowning as one of the city officials walks up and greets them cheerily. They receive their instructions and set about greeting those gathered for the tree lighting ceremony. Afterward, Scott and Tessa pose for photos and autographs, receiving many well wishes and thanks for all they do. A few of the college-age girls bring their Firefighter Calendar, earning impish grins from Tessa as Scott blushes, scribbling his name beside the cat.

When they make their way inside the concert hall, both are chilled to the bone. Tessa goes to the restroom just to run her hands under hot water while Scott contemplates ripping open the hand warmer packet and rubbing the contents all over his hands.

"I know what you're thinking and since my sons have thought the same thing, I'm going to speak from experience and let you know it's a bad idea," Kate Virtue chimes in as Scott scowls, shoving the packet in his pocket. He reaches out and gives her a hug, sighing into her motherly grasp.

When he pulls away, she gives him a look so strangely reminiscent of Tessa that he shakes his head, clearing the confusion. He tries to cover his momentary lapse in propriety by giving her a bright smile, but she sees right through it.

"Anything the matter?" She asks quietly as they wait in the grand foyer for her husband and Tessa to return.

Scott starts to shake his head, but is so tired of pretending that he just shrugs. "You know how sometimes you're just not in the spirit? I'd rather just hole up in my place for a couple days and then come out and have Christmas be done. I'm just not really into feeling..."

"Feeling like you're happy when you're not?" She tilts her head to the side, watching him. "I know exactly what you mean. The only problem is that I have a daughter who is simply happy to be alive, so I feel very selfish for feeling disingenuous this season."

He looks up at her, knowing that this was probably the origin of the squabble Tessa's parents were having earlier. Suddenly, he laughs, finding the whole situation comical.

"It's funny, we both have everything we could ever want, and yet we're still being scrooges. What's it gonna take?"

Kate opens her mouth to reply just as both her husband and Tessa walk around the corner both laughing at something. Scott glances at Kate and sees a warm smile emerge over her face as she absently places her hand to her chest, letting out a sigh. He knows that sigh, it's one of gratitude and satisfaction.

"Look at you two, standing over here, plotting away like Mr. Scrooge," Tessa notes as her father passes around programs. "Come on, I'll buy everyone a hot toddy after the show if you at least pretend to be excited."

Kate reaches out and kisses Tessa on the forehead, pulling Scott in on her other side. "No pretending. Just needed a reminder. I will take you up on the hot toddy though."

Just before they head inside, his parents reach them, greeting everyone cheerily. They seem to have made up, much to his delight. His mom laughs at something Jim says as Tessa and his father lead the way into the hall, discussing whether or not he should trade ties with Scott since it has Mr. Grinch on it.

"Ha ha ha, very funny," Scott growls playfully. "Then how would I match you?"

"Heaven forbid you two not match for once," Kate quips with a wink at Tessa. Once they reach their seats Tessa's parents lead the way then Tessa, Scott and his parents. They're all talking among themselves making what many would view as a fascinating picture of domesticity if any of them gave it a moment's thought. Thankfully, they do not.

Eventually Tessa unbuttons her jacket, but the lights have dimmed in preparation for the show and he doesn't get a good look until intermission. The first half is standard Christmas music fare, all the ones he’s been avoiding on the radio. It's beautiful and irritating at once. He wishes he could shut off the concert.

At intermission Tessa receives a text, causing her to turn and search the audience. Grinning, she stands and slides out of her coat, tossing it in her seat as she texts the person a reply.

"I have a couple friends here," Tessa beams. "I'm going to head out to the lobby. Anyone need anything while I'm up?"

Scott shakes his head, trying not to stare at Tessa in her dress, because it’s beautiful and she looks lovely and he doesn’t want to have thoughts like that right now. His mom however, has no such misgivings.

"Tessa! That dress is gorgeous! Where'd you get it?" She reaches out to touch the black beaded lacy thing with flecks of gold that is very stylish and expensive looking.

"When I was with Jordan looking at wedding dresses. It's really comfortable, oddly enough," Tessa smiles as she puts her hand in a pocket, "AND IT HAS POCKETS!"

Scott laughs to himself as she practically skips away to meet up with her friend presumably waiting in the lobby. Jim leans over Kate and asks Scott about when he's moving to Toronto.

"First week in January," Scott states as he fiddles with the brochure. "We start taping week two, but I've got to get set up in a place and all that stuff."

"If you need any recommendations of places, Tessa made a pretty big list when she got back. Though I don't think any of the ones she was looking at were close to the station," Kate states as Jim nods. "We have plenty of co-workers who live in the city though, so if you need any pointers, let us know."

Scott thanks them, genuinely pleased to know that he's got a little bit of help. Mike offered Scott a room in his swanky bachelorpad townhome until he finds a place, so at least he won't be living in a hotel once he starts the program.

Hearing the orchestra start warming up again, Scott searches for Tessa, knowing the show is about to resume shortly. She’s talking with several people in the far back, smiling and nodding. She looks happy, luminous in delight, and he would be lying if that didn't make him feel at least thirty percent better. As if knowing he's looking for her, she turns and smiles at him, winking his way in acknowledgement. Hugging her friends goodbye, she makes her way to her seat, oblivious to the double takes she receives.

When she slides into her seat, he practically feels her buzzing with joy and feels himself grow warm. Leaning over, he pinches her shoulder asking, "What good news did you just receive?"

"Only the best," she looks at him and gives him a smile he's missed for so long, his smile. "But you won't find out for another week!"

The music returns as the community choir joins the stage, beginning with Carol of the Bells. Scott hunkers down in his seat as he lets the music wash over him, feeling content for the first time in weeks.

After the show, the families both get dessert at a nearby restaurant with Tessa buying drinks as promised. They remain seated around the table until closing, reminding Scott of when he and Tessa used to do the same not all that long ago. His spirits bolstered, he hugs all the parents goodbye and walks Tessa to her SUV, deep in discussion over Scott's plans for January.

A week later, on Christmas Eve (because some families _coughTheVirtuescough_ open presents on Christmas Eve) Scott finds a very nice, gently used snowplow in his driveway with a note attached. "Sorry, I'm still broke, but my friend's husband was getting rid of his. Couldn't pass it up! Merry Christmas, XOXO - T. PS: We have agreed to an appearance for my friend’s second grade class, be excited!"

Scott grins as he squats in front of the plow, excited and feeling a bit flummoxed. He got her a gift, but none so grand as a Snow plow.

"But you got me Aimée!" Tessa huffs when he shows up at her house later that night, pelting her bedroom window with snowballs.

"That wasn't a gift! That was... that was I dunno," Scott replies as he shoves his hands in his pockets. "Anyway, here is mine. Set your bar low, like super low. I was going to give it to you tomorrow, but I just learned that we're going to my aunt's and who knows when I'll get back."

Tessa sighs at him, shaking her head. "Seriously, you didn't need to get me anything, Scott."

"Opeeeeen!" Scott commands as she sighs, taking the package and opening it carefully. It's several pictures of her with friends she's made in the past year: Aimée, Hailey, Victoria and Nathan, with the last being a group photo with everyone from Holiday on Ice and Diana Krall.

"Oh, this is lovely!" Tessa beams, smiling up at him. Thank you so much! Really, it's wonderful."

She asks him inside for some cookies and hot cocoa, which he readily accepts. Her parents are sitting in the living room, watching the Muppets Christmas Carol with the living room looking like a tornado just swept through.

"My brothers just left," Tessa explains as she starts making the cocoa. Scott hops up on the counter and surveys the large selection of Christmas cookies as she stands at the stove, warming the milk.

"Did you make all these?" Scott asks with a mouthful of sugar cookie.

Tessa nods, biting her lip. He squints at her in thought, frowning. "You aren't sleeping again, are you?"

"Not really," Tessa sighs. "I was good for about a week. I try not to think about it too much, though. I'm just happy to be home with my family instead of holed up in my apartment studying relentlessly."

"Yeah, I saw that tweet about your secret hideout in the library getting taken. Tough luck," Scott smirks as he snatches up a dark chocolate and peppermint cookie, making a face at the sweetness. "Next week, I'll be filling in for one of the guys at the station, so I probably won't see you until Paul and Sarah's thing."

Tessa nods as she grabs their mugs and walks over to him and hands it over, leaning against the counter opposite. "Want to ride with? I can be your DD."

"I won't need one," Scott grins. "But sure, sounds good."

They agree on the set time then give each other parting hugs, bidding each other merry Christmas.

A couple days later, Scott stops by Tom's with more firewood and spots some cookies on the counter that look distinctly like ones he had at Tessa's.

"Yo Tom, since when do you know how to bake?" Scott asks as he holds up the plate.

"None of your damn business, Meathead!" Chirps that damn bird from his perch behind Tom's chair.

"Hey, you be nice," Tom growls at the bird. "Still can't bake, Kid. Tessa brought me those yesterday."

"She did, did she?" Scott narrows his eyes at Tom, whose face is carefully blank. "And why exactly did she see you yesterday?"

"Because I invited her over," Tom replies smoothly, dusting invisible crumbs from his pants. "She’s come to see me a couple times since the wedding. We always have a cup of tea and she tells me how things are going. She's a lovely girl."

"Uh huh," Scott gives Tom the side-eye, suspicious. "And you wouldn't have an ulterior motive, or anything?"

"Oh come off it, kid. Not everything is about you. I just enjoy her company and she's kind enough to drop by every once in a while. I even met her mother. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that family," Tom wags his finger with a knowing grin. "Anyway, what's going on with you? You look tired."

Scott explains the extra shifts he's taken as well as his impending departure for Toronto. They'll be shifting poker night as a result, but Scott insists on maintaining the tradition, if only because he enjoys those fellas so much.

.::.

Tessa slides out of Scott's truck and heads with him down the path to Sarah and Paul's. They just came from Scott's property where they loaded up his truck with wood that they'll be using for the bonfire later that night. To her credit, Tessa doesn't ask why he has amassed so much firewood. Even though they're incredibly early, the house is already brimming with activity, everyone looking forward to a merry evening.

"It's a shame Shannon couldn't make it," Tessa says as they reach the front deck. "I think Paul made that beer chili she likes so much. You should bring some back for her."

Scott nods in agreement, thinking he'd do that. Shannon is working the delightful shift of New Years again. So lucky.

Tessa takes their coats and heads to the guest room, hanging them in the closet with many others. When she emerges Sarah sweeps her up, giving her a wicked smile. "I need you to come sample my Winter Solstice punch!"

"Wait, is this Grammy Cotillard's recipe!?" Tessa hops up and down. "Lead the way."

Sarah brings her through her and Paul's bedroom and out the private door that leads to the back porch. On a small table rests the precious Winter Solstice beverage, angels practically singing as Sarah pours the first cup.

"Wait, shouldn't we wait until later tonight?" Tessa asks. Local lore states that having this be the last and first drink of the year will promise good things to come. "I mean... I don't think I can handle anymore bad luck next year."

"We're just taste testing," Sarah evens out their glasses, merely a shot's worth in each. "Granted I just had a fantastic year, but you sure can use all the help you can get."

"Gee, thanks," Tessa breathes in the rich, warm beverage. At the same time, she and Sarah take a sip, feeling the familiar smooth tingle as it works its way down, warming their bellies.

"Absolutely perfect.”

“Such a magical drink,” nods Sarah, winking mischievously.

They make their way around the deck where Paul is officially getting ready to start the bonfire, much to the delight of many.

Tessa wanders around, talking with old friends, taking turns going in and out of the house as she warms up. She greets Kaitlyn and Andrew warmly as they arrive with Jeff, all of whom have known Paul since road trips were a feasible option. Tessa gets a good look at Kaitlyn who looks tired but fine.

"How was Christmas? Get everything you wanted?" Tessa asks as she and Kaitlyn squeeze together in an oversized chair.

"Obviously not, but I'm working on it," she replies, trying to sound flippant, but failing. "I uh... I still don't quite understand what happened."

Tessa listens to Kaitlyn vent over their recent shutout at the Grand Prix finals. They got third, which was a complete shock to almost everyone. Russia got first and the US got second. The more Kaitlyn talks, the angrier Tessa gets, feeling a resurgence of helplessness, the same futility as before Sochi.

"I guess, it's just that I never really got it before," Kaitlyn summarizes, running out of steam, "how you and Scott felt after the Grand Prix finals just before the Olympics. I knew that it sucked, I felt irritated, but now knowing that even if you're absolutely perfect and give a flawless performance, you're damned."

Tessa squeezes her hand, leaning her head on her shoulder in support. "How's Andrew holding up?"

"He won't talk about it," Kaitlyn frowns. "He's... he's mad, but he just wants to keep practicing, more and more. He almost didn't come tonight, but when I said I would kick him out of the bed, he gave in."

"Ah, so withholding sex does work?" Tessa smirks. "I was curious how it was that you two made it through your short dance without spontaneously combusting."

"Yeah, it was a very..." Kaitlyn gives Tessa an arch look. "Let's just say it was a very hot summer."

Laughing for the first time in days, Kaitlyn lets out a soft sigh. "It's so good to have you back, Tess. I wish we could hang out more."

"Too bad we're both insanely busy," Tessa hums, smiling as Paul walks up and hands them a bag full of stuff to make s'mores. "When you lovely ladies are ready, there is a bonfire outside calling your name."

They both agree to come out, but remain in the chair a bit longer, talking about Tessa's fall term and what the spring is going to be like.

"So, rumor has it that you have... a gentleman friend," Kaitlyn whispers as Tessa gives her a questioning look.

"A gentleman friend? Says who?"

Kaitlyn nods at Jeff who is telling what appears to be a comical story as Scott and a couple others laugh at the tale. Tessa tilts her head to the side, trying to figure out what Kaitlyn is talking about, until she remembers that Jeff was at her party when Henri showed up.

"Ohhhhh Henri? Is that who you're talking about?"

"Unless you have more gentlemen friends?"

"Let's stop calling him gentleman friend," Tessa laughs. "He's... he's just... I don't know. It was all very strange. Right before I left it was actually more of a 'Oh hey, I'm still alive!' kind of thing, and then he came to visit and... yeah."

"Tessa, when a man flies half way around the world for you, it sends a certain kind of message."

"But he didn't! He just... I was kind of like a detour."

"And how long was the detour?"

Tessa feels her face flush, thinking about all the details of that detour. "A week."

"Right, sure. I feel like there's a story you need to tell me," Kaitlyn leans back, getting herself prepared.

"It's not nearly as exciting as you might think," Tessa sighs, shaking her head.

"What isn't?" Sarah asks as she and Meg come over and take seats on either arm of the overstuffed chair.

Kaitlyn grins up at Sarah, "I asked about Henri since she keeps pretending like she hasn't been up to no good."

"Oh yes!" Sarah claps, excited. "I've been wanting to ask about this for a while. C'mon Tessa, just... explain what happened. You don't have to go into detail."

Tessa frowns, thinking that this isn't something that she should be discussing. What she and Henri have... had, it was very private, and very special. But she looks at their expectant faces and sighs.

"Okay, fine. Only the highlights." She explains how they met, how absolutely nothing was going on, and then he kinda said something one night that threw her off, but didn't really indicate anything.

"That's because you are the worst at being able to tell when another guy is flirting with you," Kaitlyn chimes in.

"Hey, you grow up with Scott Moir and tell me how easy it is to talk to other guys. You know I suck at it." Tessa huffs. "Anyway, lets see, I think Aimée was gone? Yeah. She was in Rwanda for six weeks. So that left me and Henri together quite a bit, but it was mainly working and occasional meals."

"Right, what is this work of which you speak?" Meg grins. "I remember you talking a lot about those goats. Did he you offer you a goat as a symbol of his affection?"

"Oh my God," Tessa laughs. "You're awful. No! He just... there were goats involved actually. I forgot about that. Right before Aimée came back the goats escaped and Henri and I spent two hours wrangling them all back together and put them back in their fence. Then when we were sitting outside in his jeep, he kissed me. It wasn't life-altering or anything."

Wrapping up the end of the story, she breezes over several things, ending with his surprise visit in October. Tessa shrugs at their expectant looks, refusing to elaborate. "He came to see me for several reasons, not just because he wanted sex."

"Lots of sex," Sarah giggles, hiding behind a pillow. "Damn girl. He's like the love child of Bear Gryls and Han Solo."

"Well, if you ever figure out what you two are doing, let us know?" Kaitlyn asks as she pulls Tessa up from the seat, the four of them heading outside to the bonfire.

Tessa wasn't being completely honest when she said nothing is going on between them. She and Henri correspond frequently, both through email and letters. She loves his letters most. He always leaves secret notes in them that require her to look further into what he's really saying, which is what makes getting his letters all the more exciting. No they aren't exactly nothing, but they aren't something either. They both left things very open-ended and open they have remained.

She also receives letters from Tuba and Isaiah which are colorful pictures and typically laden with stickers. She's going to frame them someday, especially the one with a giraffe playing soccer.

Once the hotdogs and s'mores get underway, Tessa glances around and finds Scott not far away, deep in conversation with Meg’s husband and Paul, He lifts his eyebrows in acknowledgement, nodding when she holds up a roasting stick. A couple minutes later, he makes his way over, practically shoving his hands in the fire.

"Why are we all outside? It's too cold for this. What's wrong with the indoors?"

"You haven't had any of Paul's homebrew yet, have you?"

"Obviously not, otherwise, I'd probably be streaking across the lake at this point."

Tessa grins as he shoves a marshmallow on the skewer. "You having a good time?"

"Yeah, it's good to see everyone. Who knows when we'll get together next." Scott inhales, breathing in the scent of burning wood and winter. "I feel like if you could bottle the scent of Canada, this would be it."

"Don't forget the scent of maple syrup, though it could get messy," Tessa agrees. "Have you had a chance to talk to Andrew?"

"Yeah, he wouldn't say much. He's just really pissed. I think this is one of those times where he wishes he could get away from his partner though. They can't separate the two anymore and it's affecting their personal relationship."

Tessa's eyebrows dart upward, surprised. Clearly Scott got more of the frustrated end of things. She purposefully ignores all the implications his comment means for their own career. Mostly. "You're right to an extent, but I think they've done a great job balancing the two so far. Can't blame them for struggling when it seems like their professional future is possibly doomed."

Scott keeps his mouth shut, clenching his jaw as he deliberates. "All I'm saying is that it's hard to unwind when you can't escape the constant reminder. Not only that, it's got to get boring for both of them. Always together? No thanks."

Feeling an acute sting, Tessa feels Scott is talking less and less about Andrew and Kaitlyn and more about her and Scott. Tessa is reminded of a comment Scott made around this time two years ago, saying that a relationship with her would be boring. She agreed in a way, thinking that there wouldn't be any room for growth if they were in a relationship together. She made a comment saying as much in an interview, wanting to dispel the notion that as retired athletes, she and Scott could finally get together. Lo and behold, a year later she tried very hard to make it a reality.

What an awful idea that was.

Fortunately, she'll never make that mistake again. She falls silent as Scott goes on a tangent, staring off into the fire. Tessa finds herself growing increasingly irritated at Scott as he continues to talk, then as another of their friends walks up. Without even excusing herself, Tessa hands her skewer to another guest and decides to head inside for a moment.

She's not sure what it is, but she feels her high spirits quickly sinking. She’s not sure why Scott’s comments bother her so much, but she does know the fact that it still hurts is troublesome. Her rational mind agrees with Scott (and most the skating community) that dating partners is ill advised. They’d made the same deal multiple times that dating would be a career-ruiner.

Still, she wonders sometimes, what would have come of them if they had succumbed to that irrational pull that’s driven them for so many years?

“Tess?” Scott sticks his head around the corner, offering a tentative smile. “Sorry I got so pissy out there. Me and Andrew had a bitch-fest about the shitty judging which wound me up and then Andrew said something about... about you and me, that's all," Scott sighs quietly as he finally looks her in the eye. "Something I'd rather not repeat, to be honest. Like I said, he’s not in the right mindset, but I think he’ll spill his beans to Kaitlyn later."

Tessa nods, taking Scott’s olive branch for what it is. “Will that be before or after the Winter Soltice punch?”

“Actually,” Scott has the decency to look ashamed, “I gave him a couple pints of Paul’s home brew and told him it was light beer. I think Andrew is napping in the guest room right now.”

“Scott!” Tessa slaps him on the arm. “Someone is going to go in there and molest that poor man. Go check on him!”

“Fine, fine,” Scott heads down the hall, returning a minute later. “I’ve cocooned him in Grandma Murphy’s quilt. He’ll be fine.”

Scott slings and arm around Tessa’s shoulder and drags her outside, offering to make her a S’more. The rest of the night carries on in lighthearted festive manner, with all the guests partaking in jovial winter games. The most consequential being truth or dare.

Scott may or may not do the polar bear plunge, much to Tessa’s dismay.

Tessa may or may not kiss Sarah, much to everyone’s delight.

Winter Solstice punch is handed out at midnight and everyone prepares to take the all important sips, huddling in a giant circle around the bonfire. Paul and a couple others are out in the center of the frozen lake, preparing to set off the largest fireworks display for miles. Also the most illegal, but whatever. At this point, against their best intentions, Tessa and Scott are both relatively tipsy.

At 11:59 everyone takes a sip and silent thanks are given for the past year. The clock strikes midnight and many kisses are given indiscriminately to everyone in the nearby area, by 12:01, the last sip is taken, sealed with a kiss.

It just so happens that Scott kisses Tessa for this, the most important of all the kisses. It’s brief, but the effects are lasting. Of course when they look back on the kiss, it'll be a dull memory. They’ll recall how intoxicated they were, how strange that their lips tingled, how peculiar that their hearts slowed and their very cores were filled with content.

 _A magical drink_ , indeed.

.::.::.::.

By the end of January, Scott is certain of two things: he cannot live with a co-worker and two: he misses Norma Jean, who’s been staying at his parents when he’s in Toronto. He neglects to consider that this is a quirk of his, the inability to be around someone 24/7, but he neglects many things.

One Saturday he gets off work early and decides to drop by Tessa’s place to stage a sneak attack. For as much as he hates surprises, he sure loves giving them. Unfortunately, when he gets inside her building, he forgets about the security desk.

"The resident must sign you in, Sir."

"But I'm trying to surprise her."

"Residents in this building don't like surprises, that's why they live here. I can contact her, see if she'll permit you."

Growling, Scott nods as he goes to take a seat near the desk. It's utterly disgusting outside and he doesn't want to think about his trip back to Mike's. He watches as a beautiful dog with an equally beautiful owner walk inside, heading straight to the elevators.

"Sir, no one is home right now. Perhaps you can return at another time."

Just as Scott is preparing to brave the frosty environs, the devil herself walks inside, bundled up tight against the snow. She does a double take before realizing it's Scott in her lobby.

"What's going on? Is something wrong?" she asks as she walks up to him, concerned.

"No, no. I just... I got off early and wanted to surprise you, but I was forbidden passage."

"Yeah, that's kind of the point of having security," Tessa pulls off her scarf, wrapping it around her hand. "Surprise me for what?"

"Dinner? I dunno, we haven't really talked much since New Years and I feel out of the loop."

Tessa looks down, thinking about what she'd like to do. "I don’t know… I have a lot of work to do…”

Scott gives her his best puppy dog face, pressing his hands together in a begging motion. “Fooood. Just food. You can spare an hour. I know you can. Please?”

Giving in, she turns towards the elevators. "Let's go up real quick. I need to drop off my stuff."

The ride up to her apartment is quiet, as is the walk down the hall. Once they get inside, Scott gets that strange sense of deja vu again, but brushes it aside as Tessa turns to him as she sheds her bag and coat, shaking her head. "You didn’t reply to my texts yesterday. What’s up with that?"

"I get them when I’m at work but I can’t respond. By the time I get the chance, I forget who I’m supposed to be talking to. Also," Scott collapses into a heap on her couch “what about you? You didn’t reply to me earlier in the week.”

“No excuse. Clearly we’re busier this semester. I'm in class a bit more," she walks to her dining table and sorts through her bag. "Still, I just..."

“At least we’ve acknowledged that we both have something to improve upon,” Scott states as Tessa walks up to him and pulls on a different coat. “Care to escort me to one of the more enjoyable dining establishments in town?”

Tessa screw up her face in thought. “Sure, I know a couple places. Hope you’re hungry.”

"Let’s eat."

By the end of the night, Scott is certain of two things: he cannot live with a co-worker, and two: Tessa is going to be his new roommate.

.::.::.::.

Tessa talks herself out of letting Scott say with her about seven different times. Even if she doesn't have feelings for him, she doesn't want to risk anything else happening. She also doesn't know why she offered in the first place. It's not like he was fishing.

It was more like she offered in a very matter of fact way, and the more they mulled over it, the more it made sense.

Dammit, just when she was thinking of getting a dog, she got a Scott instead. Ugh.

Her and her big mouth.

She opens the door just as Scott comes down the hall with a cart loaded with suits and suitcases. "You're having second thoughts, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"If you don't want me here, I can go."

Tessa surveys his stack of suitcases and bounty of suits, shaking her head. "No. Don't go. Just... come in."

Scott pushes the cart inside, giving her a cautious look as he rolls past. He goes to the guest room and unloads his cart while Tessa goes to the kitchen to make some tea, trying to calm her nerves. Scott emerges a while later, still wearing a look of concern.

"Stop looking at me like that," Tessa sighs. "I just... I keep thinking that this might blow up in our faces."

"Well," Scott slides onto a barstool at her counter, the very one he sat upon when they spoke in November. "How about this? We do a trial run and if things get weird, I'll find a place, no harm no foul. All you have to say is 'Maybe it's time to look elsewhere' and I promise I won't get butthurt."

"Yes you will."

"Yes I will, but you would too if I said ‘Maybe I should look elsewhere."

"Which is exactly why this is a bad idea." Tessa sighs, pouring them both a cup of tea. "I'd like to say that I'm not afraid that we could hurt each other, but we're really good at that."

"Well then how about we promise to do our best not to?"

Tessa narrows her eyes, not quite feeling in the promising spirit. "You really think you're in the right place to make that kind of promise?"

Scott gets up from the stool and walks around the counter stopping right in front of her. "Look at me, come on, look." He waits until she's making eye contact. "I promise to do my best not to hurt you. Nothing we do is ever with bad intentions, just sometimes there’s really bad collateral damage.”

Tessa gives him a nonplussed look, sighing. “This is a bad idea. We’re going to mess this up.”

“Nope. Not if we agree not to.”

“Just because we’re going to make a promise doesn’t mean something isn’t going to happen.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to do our best to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Tessa looks down, biting her lip in contemplation. Such a bad idea. _Bad_. “Okay. Fine. I, Tessa Virtue, do hereby agree to not ruin your life.”

Scott grins at how serious she is, holding out her hand to shake. “I, Scott Moir, do hereby agree to not ruin your life.”

They shake then take a sip of their tea in an act of binding friendship legality. Scott heads to his room to unpack his stuff while Tessa returns to her table, collecting her books. Emerging five minutes later, Scott realizes Tessa is taking off, making him feel uncomfortable.

“Wait, why are you leaving? I didn’t mean to run you off.”

"You’re not. I have a prep meeting, then study group," Tessa says.

"Wait a sec, I picked this up earlier," Scott presents her with a very prominent magazine bearing Tessa on the cover.

"They sent me a box of those last week," Tessa replies, motioning to a box sitting beside the window. "Still haven't read it yet. Does it make me seem awful?"

"No, the interviewer did an excellent job and you come off seeming very competent and well-intentioned. The photos from the fundraiser are pretty great." Scott opens to the page and points to the photoset. There's one of him laughing as she leans against the wall in his fireman pose.

"You're right, not bad at all," Tessa smiles. "Maybe I'll read it over tonight." Tessa hands him the magazine and prepares to leave. “Oh! Your key is on the counter. As is the access code to the parking garage and your swipe card for getting into the building.”

“So much security.”

“Well, if only you knew what I…” Tessa catches herself then shrugs. “I’ll be home around eight. Bye.”

Scott nods as the door shuts behind her, the apartment feeling suddenly empty and lifeless. He roams around, looking at her bookcase, her photos, her cabinets. He spends a solid thirty minutes sitting in a chair that faces the view, drinking the rest of his tea, thinking.

An hour later, he’s making his way to the station. The commute is about equal, but not nearly as unpleasant or annoying. Mike is a great co-anchor, but there are only so many stories Scott can hear of Mike’s glory days, before Scott wants to poke his eye out with a paperclip.

Work goes well, Mike is none the wiser, and Scott is invited to a dinner the following weekend hosted by one of the women on the show after theirs. Her name is Lola and she runs the tech segment, which is fitting because she and her husband are possibly the most gadgety people he knows. Everyone calls her Inspector Gadget, especially when she starts messing around on her wristwatch computer thingy.

After he gets back from work, there’s barely anything in Tessa's cabinets so he goes to the store, stocks up on food then returns and makes dinner.

When Tessa arrives at home, it’s closer to nine and Scott tries not to act too concerned by her tardiness, simply nods at her, mentions leftovers in the fridge, then retires to bed.

That’s basically their routine for the first month. Stilted and awkward.

.::.::.::.

Late one Friday afternoon in early March, Scott enters Tessa's building, feeling somewhat strange. It's odd, staying in a building like this. It makes him feel like one of those corporate businessmen who travel from city to city doing... whatever it is they do. He'll pretend he's James Bond though, it lends more intrigue to the daily banality.

When he gets to her floor he checks his watch, trying to mentally calculate if he has time for the gym before he makes dinner. Deciding in the negative, he let's himself into the apartment and inhales deeply. Before he heads to his room to drop all his stuff, he spots a new hook on the wall and grins, taking his coat off and hanging it up at it's new home. Tessa must have hung it last week after it took them a solid five minutes to sort out their jackets before going out to dinner.

Scott's unsurprised to find her place empty, knowing that she spends a lot of time at the library late into the evening. He opens the fridge and sees that she stocked up on his favorites, smiling to himself. People always say that he takes care of her, but she does it just the same, just in less overt ways.

He sets about making dinner, texting her to see when she'll be home. She replies saying it'll be over an hour, so he takes his time, choosing a more labor-intensive recipe than something easily whipped together. He doesn't set the table or get out glasses for wine, just keeps some plates on the counter and puts a hockey game on the tv.

Tessa gets home a few minutes after she said, but not enough to make him worry. She raises her eyebrow at his dinner making, but says nothing of it. Retreating to her room, she dumps her bag and changes into more comfortable clothing.

"It smells really good, what'd you make?" Tessa peers over his shoulder, close but not touching.

"Ah, nothing fancy. Chicken, asparagus, and my special risotto."

"Ohhhh, you know how I feel about risotto. I hope you don't want any." Tessa reaches for the spoon, but Scott pulls it away just in time, giving her a stern look.

"Hey, not so fast. Go wash your hands. And tell me what the score is."

"Redwings are up," Tessa states as she works the soap into a lather. "You don't have to make dinner, you know. I don't... I don't want you to feel like you need to do anything. It's just a bed."

Scott doesn't turn to her, just continues stirring. He chooses his words carefully, knowing that she'll mull over them later.

"Tess, I got home early, I was hungry. I knew you'd be hungry too. I did what any reasonable person would do in my position, which was make myself dinner. You just happened to show up when I was about to eat." He gives her an evil smirk, laughing as she huffs at his mock offense.

"God you're such a jerk sometimes," she sighs as she opens the fridge, pulling out the water pitcher. She grabs two glasses, filling the pair and setting them on the bar.

“You know, I always figured you’d live in one of those brownstones,” Scott mentions, remembering what he was thinking about earlier. “They seem to have more personality.”

“They also lack any sort of protection or anonymity whatsoever,” Tessa replies succinctly. “While I love the eccentricity and character of brownstones, I don’t have time for the maintenance or surprises that come with an older building.”

“Valid point,” Scott replies, scooping out their food onto plates. “How was your day?”

Tessa goes over a couple things with him, keying him in on certain people that are part of her day-to-day routine. Then she mentions mooting.

“I’m sorry, what now?” Scott coughs on a piece of asparagus. “Mooing?”

“Not mooing, mooTing,” Tessa annunciates, anticipating Scott’s reaction. “It’s like… debate for law students. During first year, you have to try out in order to participate.”

“And you weren’t one of the ones selected?”

“Since when has arguing ever been my strong suit?” Tessa sighs. “Next year is when mooting actually begins, but it’s strongly recommended to get started first year. I was selected as alternate though, so that’s something.”

“Good! Right?” Scott smiles, then arches his eyebrow off her frown.

“Yeah except the other alternate, Logan Nussbaum, is pretty much my arch nemesis.”

“Ohhhh does he wear a cape and lurk in dark corners?” Scott’s excitement quickly dwindles at Tessa’s nonplussed look. “Sorry. What’s he done to earn such a title?”

“He was with me at Western. The first one to jump ship when things went south. He never really cared for me then, mainly ignored me, which was odd. But then I went to Uganda last December and that’s when he started to straight up hate me.”

“Why does he hate you?”

“Who knows? His most frequent claim is that I’m entitled, that I don’t belong in such a demanding law program, nevermind that we’re pretty much ranked the same, and that I do immoral things for the male professors to earn my marks.”

“So a smear campaign? What, is he twelve?”

“He acts like it,” Tessa sighs. “I avoid him most of the time, but now I have to see him twice a week because of practice.”

“Sounds like he’s a prince among men,” Scott stabs his chicken with too much gusto. “What should we do to him?”

“Nothing,” Tessa smiles at his tactics. “At least not yet. I’ll let you know if we need to put itching powder in his skates.”

“Excellent,” Scott smiles, bumping her shoulder with his. They continue to chat, then collect their dishes and wash up before parting to do their separate evening activities.

They’ve settled into a fairly predictable rhythm at this point. They learn each other's schedules so that they can be courteous to the other. Scott likes to make dinner on Fridays and they both tend to go out to eat on Saturdays, whether it be separate or together. Sundays, they grocery shop and prepare food that will last both of them the week.

It becomes fairly symbiotic and works well. Occasionally Scott grows worried when Tessa comes home too late, but she quickly learns that he likes to know when to expect her. Scott learns the hard way that she hates HATES dishes left in the sink, and that if she happens to fall asleep at nine while sitting at her desk, she'd prefer to just be left there.

They still don't see a lot of each other, Scott's not a hundred percent convinced she doesn't do it on purpose though. Mainly because Scott arrived early one afternoon when Tessa also happened to be home and she seemed a bit peeved. Of course, if he'd asked he'd have learned that she was irritated because her professor just added one hundred and fifty pages to their weekly reading.

For the most part, it’s going well. _Mostly_.

.::.::.::.

One day when Tessa is picking up some dinner from a nearby salad shop, she hears a strange sound coming from a trash bin. It’s an echo, followed by a rattle, then a squeak. She looks around, but the street is fairly empty, it being mid-afternoon and most people are at work. Walking closer, she hears the sound again, this time much more distinct.

“Oh my,” Tessa murmurs, setting her salad on a nearby bench. She knows that sound. It’s the sound of a, “a CAT! What are you doing in there, huh? How’d you get inside the trash can?”

Looking around, Tessa doesn’t see anymore animals, cat or otherwise in sight. Not only that, but there aren’t any paw prints in the snow, only boots. Which means…

“Humans are the worst,” Tessa growls as she lifts off the lid and peers inside to see a tiny reddish-brown tail. Carefully, she reaches out a finger and strokes it slowly. The owner of the tail scrunches up in what looks like a fast food bag, trying to hide. In a swift motion, Tessa scoops up the bag as well as the kitten.

Returning the lid to the trash can, she folds down the sides of the bag until a matted, greasy head peaks out, equally reddish-brown, meowing in fear.

“Come on, cat. Let's get you washed up,” Tessa says as she walks quickly to her building.

Once she gets to her apartment, she goes straight to her bathroom and fills the sink with warm soapy water. Strangely enough, the kitten enjoys the water, purring contently as Tessa washes the grime from his fur. Nearly asleep when she finishes, he wakes when she takes him out and pats him dry, looking up at her with mellow green eyes.

“Aren’t you the strangest looking cat I’ve ever seen?” She observes, intrigued by the cat’s coloring. She feeds him some tuna for lunch and moments later he’s asleep.

By the time she goes to bed that night, Tessa has booked her new friend an appointment at the vet to get his shots as well as allowed herself a solid hour of distraction admiring his adorable self. She places him in a small pen in her bathroom, complete with newspaper and an old towel for him to sleep on.

When Friday rolls around, she’s completely forgotten that the cat is new and has yet to meet Scott.

“Tessa!” Scott emerges from his room, holding a dress shoe with a kitten inside it, fast asleep. “It seems you either have a large critter problem, or you forgot to tell me something.”

Whoops.

Looking sheepish, Tessa grabs the shoe and walks over to the couch, carefully extracting the cat. “Yeah, about that… Surprise!”

“Have you always had a cat and I just never noticed, or is this a new development?”

“I found him Monday afternoon in a trash can. A trash can! Who does that?! Anyway I was going to take him to the shelter, but then he looked at me with these great big green eyes, and I couldn’t do it. He’s so cute,” Tessa sticks out her bottom lip, giving Scott her very own puppy dog look.

“Well, I mean, it’s your place. You know how I feel about cats though. As long as he doesn’t attack me when I’m asleep.”

“He doesn’t quite get how to jump properly, so I think you’re good,” Tessa smiles at him, happy Scott doesn’t mind. “Sorry I forgot. But wait til he wakes up! He’s so fun. I swear.”

“Yeah, I remember you saying that about that white fluffball princess you used to have. She hated me.”

“That’s because you used to tease her!” Tessa frowns. “At least we got him while he’s still young. He can learn to be around you too.”

And learn he does. So much so that Scott feels his stance on cats soften a bit as his little brown shadow follows him around the apartment when Tessa is gone. Occasionally Scott forgets and nearly steps on the poor fellow, but often times he scoops him up and sticks him on his shoulder, the cat’s favorite spot.

“If he falls from there and gets hurt…” Tessa warns one day when Scott is making a sandwich.

“Hey, if I can catch you, I’m pretty sure, — “ Scott stops just in time to catch the cat as he slips down the back of his shoulder, “I can catch the cat. What are we going to name him, anyway? We’ve had him for almost a month.”

“I dunno. I’m trying not to be all ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s’ about it, but nothing I come up with seems to fit.”

“Well, we could keep on with the Elton John theme, name him something weird like Crocodile Rock or Piano Man or…’

“TINY DANCER!!!” Tessa hops up from her seat at the table and runs over to Scott, snatching the cat from him and holding him up like Simba. “Henceforth you shall be known as Tiny Dancer!”

Scott’s shoulders slump as the cat paws at the air, unaware that his new name is lame. “Is it too late to veto?”

“Absolutely,” Tessa states, carrying the cat over to the table with her. She sets him in her lap where he quickly succumbs to sleep. “You can give him his middle name.”

Nearly done with his sandwich, Scott decides that turnabout is fairplay. “Anything?”

“Within reason.”

“Johnny Cash.”

Tessa rolls her eyes. She gives him a long-suffering look and nods her head. “Fine. His name is Tiny Dancer Johnny Cash… Virtue.”

“Hey! Hyphenate that, missy.”

“I found him!”

“He likes to sleep in MY shoes!”

They continue on in this manner for several hours. By the end of the day, the cat still only responds to ‘Cat,’ so that remains his name in moments of desperation.

March continues on in much of the same fashion as before. A solid routine with occasional glimpses of spontaneity. Overall, it’s pretty standard. Occasionally they have squabbles, but they tend to be resolved by the conclusion of the weekend, and the only time it doesn't is because it has to do with one very important issue: Scott being single. For months.

“I still don’t understand why you never said anything!” Tessa places her hands on her waist, face flushed. “I was at yoga with Shannon this morning when I was back home and I asked her how your cold was and she looked at me like I had two heads!”

“I thought you knew!”

“How!? Who was supposed to tell me!? Scott, it’s almost April!” Tessa growls. “All the times I’ve mentioned her and you never said a thing. I cannot believe you!”

“I figured it’d make it’s way to you somehow, sooner or later,” Scott mumbles. “Look it’s been over for a while now, I’m over it, she’s over it. We’re good. Can we just… forget it?’

“No, we can’t just forget it. You’ve been living with me for two months. You’ve been broken up since December. Since before we went on tour. I’ve been assuming this whole time that you’re with Shannon. But you’re not. No, you’re just a liar.”

“Hey!”

“What!? I call it like I see it.”

“Since when have I lied about anything? I still see Shannon. We’re still friends.”

“By omission. Why couldn’t you have told me back in December instead of act like a complete black cloud for a month. What was so hard about saying, ‘hey, so me and Shannon decided to break up, we’re still friends though, so be nice.’”

“I felt like an idiot, okay?” Scott explodes, shutting Tessa up. “I risked the most important relationship in my entire life, that of my best friend, so I could be with this woman. I thought that if you weren’t around, I’d finally have my head in the right place to have a relationship completely unaffected by you. I gave her everything. We worked hard. But in the end, no matter the sacrifice and the loss and all the goddamn pain, it all blew up in my face. I still lost my best friend and got my heart broken too.”

Scott’s voice is quiet as he looks at the ground trying to ignore the way his throat is closing up. Coughing, he looks back up at her, seeing a blank expression, the same one she’d wear when she came back from Uganda. He hates that look. “She didn’t want kids. That’s what did it. That’s it. So now you know.”

Scott turns and goes to his room, closing the door behind him quietly. Feeling claustrophobic, Tessa grabs her things and leaves, locking the door behind her. She goes to the library with the full intention of studying, except she can’t. Because of stupid Scott Moir. She’s both angry and sad and that won’t do.

She sees why he kept it from her because she’d have probably done the same thing, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s been deceiving her this whole time. Then she thinks about how rough Christmas must have been as well as moving here when things were so unsettled back home.

When she finally gets around to being able to focus, it’s nearly dinnertime. Pressing on, she loses track of time until the library sounds its ten-minute warning before close. She scrambles for her phone, having left her watch at home.

Shoot. It’s almost midnight. There are three texts, all from Scott.

08:32 I’m sorry about earlier. Do you want me to put your leftovers in the fridge or are you coming back soon?

10:07 Everything ok? You don’t have to talk to me, just give me a thumbs up.

11:38 I really hope you’ve lost track of time. Either way, I’m coming to get you. It’s too late to be out alone.

Tessa shoves her things in her bag, grabs her coat and scarf and weaves through rows of stacks, out of the maze, down the stairs to where she sees Scott, chatting with one of the work-study students. She catches the way he lets out a sigh of relief upon seeing her, then gives a soft smile as she walks up to the desk.

“You’re lucky we use your student ID to check you in, this dude was pretty worried,” says the guy at the desk.

“Nah, just… you know,” Scott runs his hands through his hair, shrugging. “Here give me your bag so you can put on your coat.”

Tessa does as he asks then slides her arms into her coat, trying to ignore the fear in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I had my phone on silent and then I lost complete track of time. Seriously.”

“I hoped so,” Scott replies as he keeps her bag on his shoulder, nodding goodnight to the kid at the desk. It’s snowing when they get outside, adding an additional unique sense of disconcerting silence as they walk to his car. Before he opens the door on her side she grabs his hand and stops before him.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” she says softly, looking him in the eyes. “I wish you’d told me, but I understand why you didn’t. I just… “

“I really just didn’t want to talk about it,” Scott replies, “honestly, I still don’t.”

Tessa nods, squeezing his hand and releasing it as he opens the door for her. The ride home is quick and quiet, both tired from a long day. The cat is sitting by the door when they get home, clearly irritated at his sleep schedule being disturbed. Both Tessa and Scott remove their coats and hang them, then Tessa scoops up the cat as Scott goes to the kitchen.

“Are you hungry? I can reheat dinner.”

Deliberating, Tessa nods. “Just a bit. I can’t believe I studied through dinner. That never happens.”

“Maybe you were preoccupied,” Scott suggests knowingly, keeping his back to her as he busies himself at the stove.

Quietly, Tessa walks up behind him and presses her hand to the center of his back, between his shoulder blades then runs it down his spine slowly and wraps her hand around his side to where her hand is pressed against the center of his chest. She presses her cheek into his shoulder and closes her eyes briefly, letting out a soft breath that matches Scott’s. The cat remains in her other arm, purring loudly.

“When does it stop hurting?” Scott whispers as he twines his fingers with hers, still facing away.

“It doesn’t,” she says softly. “You just get used to it.” Reaching up on her tip toes, she kisses the back of his neck sweetly, squeezes his hand, then pulls away. “I’m gonna go put this guy to bed. I’ll be back.”

Afterward, the weeks following Scott’s confession seem to have cleared the air between them. There is very little tension, almost like a reset button was pushed and both feel as though they’re on equal playing ground.

Things continue on smoothly through finals, but get a bit choppy when she nears the due date for her thesis. She stops sleeping all together, forgets to eat, and looks generally like death warmed over. They get in an argument about her not taking care of herself which is one hundred percent true and Scott practically kidnaps her one day to get her away from her paper.

“This is ridiculous,” Tessa fumes from the passenger seat. “I’m FINE.”

“Have you looked in the mirror lately? Because you’re not. You’ve lost weight, you look pale, and there are bags under your eyes. I don’t care if you think you’re fine. This is all about me, and I say you’re not. So shut your mouth and let me make you feel better.”

Tessa stews in silence from her seat as Scott drives outside of town to a local resort on Lake Simcoe. When she realizes where they’re going, she practically spits fire.

“Cool your pits, Virtue,” Scott says as he gets out of the car to check in. “We’re only staying the night. I’ll have you back in town by early morning so you can go hole up in the library to your hearts content. But right now, you’re mine.”

She hunkers down in the seat, completely and utterly irritated. Well aware of how irrational she’s being, she focuses on everything going on around her. The weather has been uncommonly warm lately, bringing about an early spring. The grounds are bursting with life she does not feel, couples walking hand in hand (ugh), kids running circles around their parents (can’t handle that right now), and people rolling by in golf carts (yes please).

An hour later, Scott has them settled in a two-bedroom suite and is marching Tessa to the spa where she’s being ordered to receive a four hour spa package.

“When she comes out, I want her shining from head to toe,” Scott jokes with the receptionist. “If you can manufacture a smile to paste on this face, that’d be swell too.”

Tessa pouts at him as she heads to the massage suite like a criminal to the guillotine. By ten minutes into her massage, she’s absolved Scott of all his transgressions and offers to marry her 64-year-old German masseuse who has hands made of magic and heaven.

When Scott greats her later, he’s clearly pleased with the results and Tessa feels too loose and languid to remain irritated. Together they have a late lunch then take in 9 holes of golf before they return to the room for much needed naps. When Tessa awakes, it’s to Scott tapping her ankle.

“Come on sleepy head, let’s eat.” He tosses her a dress he stole from her closet at home and gives her ten minutes to get ready. She does as ordered and emerges looking much better.

“Well look at you,” Scott grins as he stands up from the couch. “Looking like the beautiful human being that you are.”

“Ha ha,” Tessa rolls her eyes as he helps her with her coat. They walk to dinner in comfortable silence, arriving at the restaurant just in time for the wine tasting. They do their duty and offer completely preposterous opinions of all the wines, each a bit more ridiculous than the last.

Scott swirls a red wine around in his mouth then smacks his lips, looking at Tessa and says point blank: “Tastes like socks after a hockey game. With a hint of blue cheese that is more blue than cheese.”

Tessa covers her laugh with her hand, trying not to draw attention to them. They carry on in this manner until they reach their table for dinner where they share a large family style meal with other guests.

Conversation is light as Scott explains to their table partners that he kidnapped Tessa because she’d developed hermit-like traits he isn’t fond of. Everyone laughs and has a good time, but Scott keeps his eyes trained on Tessa, watching for when the familiar tension returns between her shoulders as she starts to dwell on her thesis.

Fortunately for them both, the tension never comes and they enjoy a fantastic meal with an even more amazing dessert. They more or less waddle back to their suite, sleepy and full. Just before they part ways for the night, Tessa grabs his hand and squeezes it in a simple gesture of quiet gratitude. Scott squeezes back _you’re welcome_.

When they return the next morning, it’s with the implicit understanding that Tessa will most certainly take better care of herself. Scott will also mention if he plans on kidnapping her before he does it the next time.

After meeting with her law school advisor and reviewing the rough draft of her thesis, Tessa finally gives herself the chance to breathe easy for a few weeks. She still has summer courses to attend to, but she enjoys most of them. The same cannot be said about her classmates, however.

Scott has met most of her law school friends and overall, he finds them to be an agreeable lot. He’s gone so far as to join Tessa’s group for dinner on occasion. There’s one girl Santi, who is definitely Tessa’s closest friend and she visits the apartment frequently. She does indeed have a crazy laugh, but she also laughs at Scott's lame jokes and cooks wonderfully. Rafael drops by often as well, making this whole solitude in a great big city not so awful.

One Friday night Scott gets home late after grabbing drinks with some co-workers. When he gets home, Tessa's sitting in the corner of the couch, books cast aside, staring at the television.

Curious, he turns and realizes she's watching a movie. She knows he loves the corner seat. He changes over into comfortable clothes, grabs a glass of water, then shlumps onto the couch right beside her, fully intent on edging her out of the corner seat.

"It's not going to work. My butt is already perfectly formed to the seat. I've been in the same position for three hours."

"Good, that means you'll have to go pee sooner or later. This seat is mine."

"I don't recall you paying for it."

"I'll throw down some cash in the morning," he jimmies his elbow beneath her arm, slowly uprooting her. "Why are you even home already?"

She lets out a haggard breath. "Long story."

He glances at her, sees the pinched eyes and thinned lips. He gets up, grabs two tumblers and pours generous servings of his scotch into each. She doesn't like it much, but she'll drink it on occasion. He realizes once he settles that she has budged ever so slightly, but she'll move no more.

They clink glasses and settle in, watching A League of Their Own. Secretly, Scott loves this movie, but he will never admit it, not even to Tessa.

"Oh come off it," she mumbles. "Go ahead and sing the song. You sing it in the shower, Scott."

He gives her a sour look, but chimes in at the second verse, "We're the members of the All-American league, we come from cities..."

"Near and farrrrr," Tessa sings as well. "We have Canadians, Irish ones and Swedes..."

They finish the song with loud and messy clapping at the end, collapsing back onto the couch in a heap. Scott turns to her and states with assuredness, "We should have a pop group."

"Definitely. We'd be huge in Korea."

"For sure," Scott nods as they settle and the movie continues on. "So uh, so who's being an asshole?"

Tessa frowns, sucking her bottom lip in so she can gnaw it for a moment. After a minute she lets out a breath.

"My arch nemesis. He’s been very outspoken recently about his thoughts that I get special treatment due to my extracurricular activities. When in fact, I probably have it much worse than him. Anyway, we have this big symposium coming up and I wasn't even in the running to present. Doesn't matter though, he still has to trash me. I'm doing well, but I definitely won't be at the top of the class."

"Are you okay with that?"

"Being first or twelfth won't change my endgame any. I'm not trying to get into a law firm here, so why work myself into the ground for nothing?" She sighs, resettling into her indent in the corner. "Anyway, we had this crazy hard exam yesterday, crazy hard. Then we were all meeting up in the library today to prep for this lecture series coming up. I... overheard him talking to a bunch of people, basic trash talk, nothing too damaging, but it was all about me."

"What's the big deal, it's not like you haven't been on the receiving end of that before."

"Well, it's just that at least two of those people are my friends. Good friends. At least I thought they were."

"And you're mad because they didn't defend you?"

"No, I'm mad because they agreed with him." She pushes off from the couch and starts pacing. "I'm mad because I work my ass off, I'm mad because I get accused of special treatment all the time. I'm mad because I have yet to actually walk at a graduation ceremony. I'm mad because no matter what I do, people still write me off as being an entitled princess."

"Is that what he called you?" Scott inquires, breaking her rant.

"What?"

"Entitled princess. Is that what he called you?"

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, among other things. He's the least of my concerns. I have a professor who is of the same opinion and has this... vendetta against women in general, but he seems to take particular pleasure in demeaning me at every opportunity."

"Why do you put up with it then?"

“I have no idea,” Tessa sighs. “Something is going to have to change.”

“Obviously. But hey, at least you got a letter from Tuba and Isaiah!” Scott picks up the letter written in crayon. “That must have been a day brightener, right?”

Tessa lets out a breath that seemingly deflates her. She reaches out for the letter and re-reads it again, then folds it gently. “Their letters make everything better. Always.”

When Tessa returns back into her corner, Scott pulls over the blanket and covers her up, then grabs them some water from the kitchen. A willing companion to Tessa's female-driven movie fest, they start another movie, The Women. Somewhere after midnight, Tessa drifts off, followed soon after by Scott.

Seven am rolls around, a beam of sunlight shining directly into Tessa's eyes. Her first thought is that it's late and she feels good. Rested. And really warm. Why?

She glances down and in front of her is the back of Scott's head. His legs are facing one direction while hers are facing the opposite on her L-shaped couch. They aren’t even touching. He must have slumped sideways onto the pillow when he fell asleep last night. She's semi-trapped behind him in the corner, cocooned by blankets and pillows. Tessa allows herself approximately thirty seconds to enjoy the absolute sense of calm and comfort, the knowingness that she is safe and no one is going to take her while she sleeps.

And then the insidious cold that crept into her heart last summer suddenly splinters inside her chest and she breaks out into a cold sweat.

She always thought the worst thing in the world was unrequited love. On the contrary, it's discovering that the only person who makes her feel safe enough to finally get a full night's sleep is the one person who doesn't want to be with her. Not that she wants to be with him either, but this realization is displeasing. An acute sense of irritation and panic seize her.

Extracting herself carefully, she quickly returns to her room to take a shower. In doing so, she fails to see Scott squint at her retreating form, frowning. Stretching, he lounges lazily on the couch, not needing to be at the station until nine. As soon as he hits the shower, Tessa makes her escape to the library.

She barely return the entire weekend. She texts him very solid reasons for not being able to return until late, then apologizes for not being able to help Scott cook the following day. Scott thinks nothing of it, knowing that she stays pretty busy.

If Tessa could articulate the fear that settled into her chest in a way that didn't make Scott feel like it’s his fault, she would. But there is no way to fix this situation. Her subconscious reacts to him no matter what her head or her heart wants. Her head wants absolutely no part in having any sort of feelings for him. None. Her heart seemingly rattles at the thought, immune to the sensation. _Comforting_.

Maybe it's time he stop staying with her. She can't risk this sort of situation happening again. It was innocent, careless. And that's how all those things come to be, especially with them. But then she thinks of how she'd have to explain it to him without hurting his feelings or thinking something was wrong.

No, that won't work either. Maybe it was a fluke. Maybe she doesn't feel anything around him. Fine. She'll come home. She'll hang out. She won't feel a thing. It'll be fine. Completely fine. So she loads up her school bag and heads home to help cook and watch a hockey game.

When she arrives Scott has just gotten back from the grocery store and smiles brightly when he sees her. She discovers to her eternal delight that she feels absolutely nothing, not even a little shimmer of excitement at seeing that smile; only a sense of comfort. Excellent. This bodes well.

"Hey stranger. I was beginning to think we were just going to be ships passing through the night."

"Yeah well, stuff and things, school..." Tessa mumbles as she starts putting things away. They do everything in easy silence, with a part of the counter covered in supplies for what Scott intends to make. She grabs an apron and tosses him his, yet another thing that has found a home at her place over the past few months. This reminds her that she is curious about Norma Jean.

“You know it’s okay to bring Norma Jean with you, right? Tiny Cat is big enough now, I don’t think she’d eat him or anything.”

“I’m more worried about Norma Jean than Cat. I’m pretty sure he’d scare her.”

“She is kind of a wimp.” Tessa grins as Scott bumps her shoulder in retaliation.

"Maybe I'll bring her in a couple weeks, see how she likes it.”

They start chatting about their respective weeks — he tells stories about the guys at the station and about Matt’s new baby girl (finally), who has the homicidal son wrapped around her finger. Scott keeps glancing at Tessa as he tells the stories, ensuring that she's genuinely enjoying the stories versus just listening to them.

When Scott barely saw her the previous weekend, he didn't think anything of it at first, but when he came back this week and didn't see her at all for two days... He knew something was up. He's just not sure what. He mentally reviews what could have caused the sudden avoidance, but other than falling asleep on the couch with her, he's not sure what he did. Only one way to find out.

"Hey uh, so random question," Scott starts as Tessa chops some vegetables. "I was wondering why... why you kinda disappeared on me."

He watches Tessa closely, the way she fixes her jaw and keeps her gaze to her work, and knows that she's trying to think of an answer. Why does she need to think of anything at all? What's wrong with the truth?

"Well... I was trying to think through something and having another person around was interfering with that."

"Oh..." Scott stills his movements, weighing her words. "Do you... do you want me to leave?"

Not even hesitating, Tessa looks him squarely in the eyes. "No. I’m done thinking about it."

And that is all that is said on the matter. They continue to prep the food with continued conversation regarding co-workers and fellow classmates. At this point, certain names but not faces are common in these stories. Scott figures now is as good a time as any to bring up his proposition to Tessa.

"Hey so uh... what are you doing next Saturday?"

Tessa, fixated on what she's doing at the stove, thinks for a second and shrugs. "I have a study group until four, but afterward, nothing. Why, what's up?"

"I need a co-pilot for a thing Saturday. Dress is cocktail attire, open bar... that kinda thing."

Tessa frowns at the thought; she hasn’t gotten dressed up in ages. “What time does it start? Are you going to get drunk, because I am not fireman carrying you home."

"Seven. Don't worry about the drinking. I'm barely going to drink at all. The network is hosting a thing and my boss is there, so obviously I'm not doing much other than sucking up."

Tessa nods. "Am I standing there to nod and be silent or do I get to be a human too?"

"When have you ever been with me and been anything other than a contributing member?" Scott scowls, feeling accused of something he's never done.

"Sorry, that was uncalled for, you're right. Okay, I'm game. But you owe me."

"Figures... I'm getting used to it."

They finish making their meals and take a seat to finish watching a game. Scott glances at Tessa on occasion, but can't detect a hint of anything amiss. Maybe she really did just need time to figure out her problem. He just wishes he knew what role he played.

"Did you ever sort out what to do about the other issue? With your friends?"

Already surrounded by her work, she glances up from her position on the couch, momentarily confused. "Yeah, one of them apologized. She said that she spoke to Logan afterward and asked what his deal was because he seemed jealous."

"Ohhhh is the dude gay? Did claws come out?"

Tessa smirks at Scott. "No he’s not, but I doubt he's ever been in a lasting relationship. He lacks certain people skills. Anyway, he made up some idiotic excuse, but she told him that people might laugh and smile when he makes the jokes, but everyone thinks that he sounds a little desperate."

"Wow. Did her little chat work?"

Tessa shrugs. "No idea. I typically avoid him anyway, which is why it was kind of a shock last week. I know he has a couple people that hang off his every word, but they aren't my type. We'll see, I guess."

"Okay, well let me know if you need anything. I can always call him out on national television or something."

"Oh yes," Tessa rolls her eyes. "The most mature response to a bit of grad-school idiocy is to complicate it with public name-calling. Nah, I'm good. Thanks."

They watch the rest of the game, cheering and chatting at intervals. By the time it concludes, Tessa gets ready for an evening dance class while Scott bids farewell to Cat. He gives Tessa a quick hug goodbye and promises to text her what color his tie will be for the work function on Saturday. Tessa rolls her eyes and nods, wishing him a good week at the station.

And that’s that. Simple.

Yeah, they’ll be fine. No problem. None whatsoever.

 

.::.::.::.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is current as of 21Dec2014. I will most likely update on the 26th if all goes well. Thanks for reading. Comments are wonderful.


	24. 15.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a tenuous trade agreement they’ve embarked upon without a clear endgame declared. Dangerous, yes. Worth it? Absolutely.

It's a tenuous trade agreement they’ve embarked upon without a clear endgame declared. Dangerous, yes. Worth it? Absolutely.

.::.::.::.

When Tessa gets home from class Thursday, she’s surprised to see Scott’s suitcase in his room already. He tends to roll into town on Fridays, but she figures he has his reasons. She changes clothes and heads to dance, having looked forward to it all day. It’s 90 minutes of complete and utter focus on her physical person without anything to do with outside interference. She goes two to three nights a week and finds that in the absence of ice skating, dance remains the only thing to keep her sane.

She receives a text from Scott just before she reaches class, asking her location. Relaying the information, she quickly forgets about it upon arriving at the studio, dropping her phone into her bag and setting it on the floor. She walks over to a spot at the barre and begins stretching, greeting fellow dancers as they enter.

Many people that attend this studio are either semi-professional or those who have chosen a life outside of dancing but remain lifelong-dancers and will never be able to quit — much like Tessa. These are people who’ve been dancing for twenty, thirty years and while experience varies, many have exceptional skill. The goal isn’t to perform, it's to create and move and feel.

The studio is on the corner of one of the large business buildings, the outward facing side with floor-to-ceiling windows to allow passersby to watch. With only thirty minutes left of her class, she senses eyes on her for a prolonged period of time, which makes her neck heat up in an unusual way. Not looking, she remains focused on the very attractive Austrian contemporary ballet dancer lifting her in the air at the moment. The instructor calls for them to repeat their portion twice more before Tessa gets the chance to glance outside.

No one is there, except passersby. Strange. She glances around the room then smiles to herself, spotting Scott sitting in the corner watching the next set. Grabbing her water bottle, Tessa weaves around random dancers in various states of stretch and preparedness until she reaches Scott.

"I didn’t know you were doing this still," Scott says after a minute. He’s dressed in workout gear, looking like he may have just come from the gym himself. "Sorry, I got a call earlier asking me to come in for meeting first thing tomorrow. I figured it’d just be easier if I came down today after work."

Tessa shrugs, unconcerned. “No worries. I haven’t done laundry yet though. I typically do it Thursday nights.”

"I was wondering about that," Scott smiles. "When is this class over?"

"Twenty minutes." Tessa winks, then returns to her side of the room. They’re to run it from the top once more before cool-down. She looks in the mirror and finds Scott, winking at him once before the music starts. The whole time, his gaze is on her, quiet and observant. She may or may not dance much better when he’s there. Whatever.

When the class finishes, she pulls on her coat as he picks up her workout bag, and together they walk home. “You looked good up there… happy.”

"That’s because it makes me happy," Tessa replies sensibly. "Always has, always will."

Scott nods, quiet. If she was contemplative last week, it’s his turn this week. They carry on is silence, retreating to their rooms to shower and prepare for dinner. It’s quick and easy since Tessa has about five hours worth of work to do and it’s nearly nine.

"You said that thing on Saturday is cocktail attire?" Tessa peers at him over her computer screen. She’s been working on this stupid brief for two days now.

"Yeah, let me know what color dress you’re wearing so I can find the right tie," Scott says from his position across from her at the table. He’s working on his computer as well, picking away at some analyses he was sent earlier that afternoon. His job is to read up on all sports happening that weekend, make sure he’s up to date on current stats, and still carry a coherent, entertaining conversation without looking like an idiot. Much harder than it looks.

"I can’t remember the last time I went shopping. I’ll probably wear something black to make it simple. Wear what you want," she mutters, sliding her pen in her bun as she clacks away on the keyboard. They settle into a silence that continues on for hours, late enough that Tessa makes them tea twice. When it passes one am, Tessa calls it quits.

As she’s putting the sheets on Scott’s bed, she doesn’t hear him enter but he goes to the other side and helps her tuck the fitted sheet at the end of the bed, following with the flat sheet. They pull up the duvet and Tessa tosses a pillow at him, bumping him in the arm purposefully as she passes. “Sleep tight.”

“Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” Scott replies automatically, face planting on his bed.

By Saturday, Scott’s been running around like a tornado and can hardly keep his thoughts straight. He nearly forgets that he has to pick up Tessa, but she texts him asking if he needs anything. Flying back to the apartment, he hops in the shower and comes out to find his suit pressed and hanging up in his bedroom. His shoes are even polished.

"How did you? And a tie!" he turns to her, confused. She isn’t even ready yet, but that’s never concerned him. “My shoes are so shiny!”

"Eh, you’ve been preoccupied since Thursday,” Tessa observes from her spot at the door, cocking her head to the side. “What’s this dinner all about anyway?"

Scott turns back to his suit, shrugging. “Just a network thing. I’ll tell you more once we get there. Go finish getting prettier.”

Except he forgets to tell her because fifteen minutes later Tessa comes flying out of her room, remembering that the hired car coming to pick them up is due to arrive in two minutes. She slides across the hardwood floor, skips into her high heels, and grabs him on the way out the door.

"Sorry! My hair was being dumb, then I couldn’t find one of my shoes, so I found another pair but…" she glances up at Scott who’s giving her an amused look as they ride the elevator. "Anyway, I have clothes on. Let’s be proud of that."

He smiles at her fondly, thinking that yes, she has clothes on and he’s very proud of that. It’s the beautiful dress she wore last Christmas, the one he didn’t care to look at too long because she looks sexy in it and he likes keeping his thoughts in a safe zone when it comes to her. It’s smarter… safer that way.

Scott holds up her clutch and tells her she looks beautiful, maybe a bit to warmly, but she brushes it off, smiling in thanks. They glide through the grand foyer of her building, oblivious to the appreciative looks they receive, making an attractive pair. The driver is waiting outside, holding open the door for them as they slide into the backseat, grinning as Tessa thanks him for being patient.

When they arrive at the function, Scott immediately reaches out for Tessa and keeps his hand on the small of her back the entire cocktail hour. Both play off each other well, answering questions and greeting acquaintances familiarly. By the time they take a seat at their table, Tessa starts to suspect something is up.

"Scott," Tessa whispers in his ear. "Why did someone ask me if I was proud of you? What’s going on?"

"Funny thing," Scott swings his arm around the back of her chair and leans in, ignoring the speculative look one of his work buddies is giving him. "I’m receiving an award tonight."

Tessa turns to him abruptly then leans back, nearly bumping his nose. “An award!? For what? Why didn’t you tell me?”

"Best newcomer or something… I don’t know. I think they made it up. But hey," Scott shrugs, trying to act nonchalant. "Free dinner!"

Tessa watches as he straightens up, clearing his throat. He leans to the other side, greeting his buddy’s wife, turning to introduce Tessa to the pair. Their table is full of a great crowd and the woman to the right of Tessa is an Assistant Editor with a Toronto-based magazine. By the end of the night, she ropes both Tessa and Scott into doing an interview.

Dinner is served before awards are given, creating a strange anxious energy in Scott, manifesting greatly in his leg shaking in excitement for minutes on end. Tessa finally hits her limit and reaches out under the table, pressing her hand on the edge of his knee.

“Sorry, sorry,” Scott whispers. “Is it hot in here to you? I feel hot. Maybe I should —“

“Scott, look at me,” Tessa gives him a soft smile, reaching up to fix his tie. “You’re gonna do great. You earned this. You work hard, you do a phenomenal job, and it’s being recognized. Own it.”

“Then how about you go up there and accept it on my behalf. Did you know that the guy whose job I took is sitting three tables over? I hope he doesn’t shank me.”

“He had a stroke, Scott,” Tessa murmurs. “I don’t think he’s going to shank anyone in the near future.”

“Still,” Scott lets out a quick breath. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous. This never happens. “

“I don’t know, it’s kind of nice,” Tessa smiles, growing more endeared to Scott’s anxiety. “Now you know how I felt before that gala last year.”

“There is no way how I feel compares to the hotmess you must have been. The amount of stress that you were under?” Scott shakes his head. “Insane. But you looked so good up there. So smooth.”

“Yeah well…” Tessa frowns, thinking about the ball of nerves she was during that entire thing. The only thing that got her through was the constant reminder that she needed that money to serve a greater purpose. That and she finally knew what real fear was.

“How’d you even do it?” Scott leans back in his chair, taking a sip of his iced tea.

Tessa starts to make up a castoff remark, but Scott needs some distraction at the moment. Why not?

“The truth?”

He nods, grabbing a roll that he begins to rip apart. “Of course.”

“When uh…” she starts softly, aware that others are near. “I know what real, honest to goodness fear is, Scott. Public speaking isn’t it for me anymore. It’s… it’s being woken up in the dead of night, a terrified boy by your side, and the sound of men with machetes cutting through brush and weeds, hunting you down so they can… so they can do awful things to you.”

Tessa is twirling the stem of her glass, staring at her water. She feels Scott’s hand on the bare skin of her back where the dress is cut away, warm and solid. He leans forward and whispers into her ear, “You know you’re safe now, right? Do you understand that?”

Turning, she looks squarely in his eyes and sees the complete sincerity, but there’s still that splinter of ice in her chest that stabs on occasion. _Safe, but not quite_. She must hesitate too long, because his eyebrows draw together in concern.

“Tess?”

Remembering where they are and that this is nowhere near the time for that kind of conversation, she reaches out and places her hand on his arm, squeezing. “You’ll do great. Just remember that you’re receiving this award because you’re awesome at what you do and clearly I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

Clenching his jaw in a way that lets her know he’s still thinking about what she just revealed, he decides to play nice and nod. “You’re right. I am pretty amazing.”

“There. That’s your speech. Nailed it.”

Scott laughs, rolling his eyes. Their entrees are brought out and conversation picks up again, lighter. When the awards are given out, Scott is much calmer. He thinks about the last time he was genuinely afraid, and thinks about the complete hell of a week when Tessa was missing and finds that it is far too bleak to recall.

When his name is called, he pushes away from the table and struts up to the stage, accepting his award humbly with his characteristic self-effacing charm. He is brief and gracious, thanking his mentor and dear friends. Proud, so freakishly proud, Tessa feels like she’s clapping the loudest, because her hands are stinging by the time he reaches the table.

Scott receives handshakes from most everyone and plenty of cheek kisses from the wives, which makes him appropriately bashful. Once he takes his seat, Tessa reaches over to kiss him on the cheek, but he overshoots the runway and accidently kisses her on the lips instead. It’s fleeting and largely inconsequential, but Scott feels his ears flush all the same. The evening continues on in good cheer, carrying on until the wee hours.

Once they get to their building, both are tuckered and quiet. Riding the elevator up, Scott holds his crystal, pyramid-shaped award to his chest like armor, grinning as Tessa rolls her eyes at his antics. After she unlocks the door Scott walks over to her bookshelf and places the award near her Coco Channel books and smiles at her.

"To remind you of my magnificence. Whenever you don’t feel awesome, just look up at that award and feel comfort in knowing that you get to bask in it's glory."

“Ha.” Slipping off her heels, she pats him on the back, muttering, “I’m not worthy.”

They switch over into their pajamas and return to the living room, exhausted, but awake. Scott already has on _I Love Lucy_  by the time Tessa emerges, barefaced and wrapped in fleece from head to toe. He thought she looked beautiful earlier, but he honestly thinks she looks better like this. He almost tells her so, but she pulls out the blanket and hunkers down in the sofa, blinking long and slow.

"I’m glad I picked out that suit," she murmurs. "It makes you look very distinguished."

Scott grins at her from his position in the precious corner, puffing himself up. “Does it make my nose look smaller?”

"Oh, certainly," she nods at him, smiling sleepily. "Very handsome."

The way she says the last part is soft, making him turn back to her, grinning in a shy way. “Why thank you.”

He pulls his pillow closer to him and stretches his legs out in the opposite direction, settling in. Within minutes, they’re both asleep.

This time when Tessa wakes the next morning at half-past seven, she blinks into the sun and yawns. She doesn’t freak out. She simply sighs and turns over, tucking her feet beneath Scott’s pillow and sleeping for an additional hour.

.::..::..::.

The following weekend, Tessa goes to London to visit her niece and brothers, essentially swapping places with Scott. It’s strange, being at the apartment without her, but he has some quality bonding time with Tiny Cat. They bro out. Sitting on the couch in boxers, drinking beer, leaving towels on the floor. It’s pretty sweet. Then he feels guilty and cleans up, Tiny Cat sitting on his shoulders the whole time.

He receives a text from Tessa the following Wednesday saying she won’t be home again, she’s got a work/school trip. He calls her soon after, curious.

"Sorry, yeah. I found out about it right before your awards thing, but it slipped my mind."

"What is it?"

"I’m heading to Brussels for a UN summit." Her voice is tight; like she’s excited and ambivalent at the same time.

Scott completely blanks, not prepared for that response. “Oh, wow. That’s… that’s great! And crazy. Do you need anything?”

"Nope," Tessa replies. "Don’t get too excited. It’ll be a bunch of meetings, listening to a bunch of diplomats talk."

Scott listens, but finds this situation odd. “You didn’t forget to tell me, did you?”

Tessa’s hesitance is telling. “I was really excited about your award but the timing was wonky and I didn’t want to make a thing out of this. Besides, it’s not like I’m winning an award or anything impressive.”

"Tessa, the whole point of friendship is to be excited for the other person’s accomplishments. I’m proud of you, kiddo. Be safe, let me know when you touch down."

When he’s at the station that Friday evening, he catches the tail end of a news segment talking about the UN Summit. No mention of Tessa, but he isn’t surprised. She did say it wasn’t a big deal.

By Sunday, however, he’s ready to throttle her. She neglected to mention she and another student would be speaking at the summit on behalf of an initiative she’s been studying/developing. She’s all over the news again, all over twitter, facebook, all over all the things. He even gets asked about her during his and Mike’s segment on Sunday morning. Unfortunately, she’s in the middle of a trans-Atlantic flight and cannot suffer Scott’s ire.

When she returns late that evening, Scott’s waiting for her on the couch. “No big deal!? NO BIG DEAL!?”

"Surprise!" Tessa offers with a light voice and a shrug. "It wasn’t just me. I’m not sure if you noticed, but Logan Nussbaum was there as well."

"The arch nemesis, who also happens to look like an ADONIS," Scott states as Tessa drops her bags and eases to the floor, stretching out all the kinks.

"Yeah. I think…" Tessa keeps her eyes fixed downward, reaching out for Tiny Cat as he marches over for some quality affection. "I think we’ve called a truce of sorts. It only took… four years."

"How so?"

"We finally had it out after dinner on Friday. Unbeknownst to me, we’ve been competing for the exact same scholarship money for years and I keep beating him out. He’s the only one in our program doing the same thing as me and I’ve always just been thismuch ahead of him."

"He’s tired of living in your shadow?"

"No, he genuinely thought I was using my ‘feminine wiles’ to get my way," Tessa smiles cheekily as she rolls her eyes.

"Feminine wiles? He clearly doesn’t know you well. You have absolutely no game whatsoever."

"Hey! I can be sexy if I try hard enough!" Tessa frowns in mock irritation.

"Yeah, okay. Sure," Scott rolls his eyes, grinning. "You have your moments, I’ll grant you."

"That’s right," Tessa huffs, flopping back on the floor, crossing one leg over and up as she stretches her glutes. "I _was_ Carmen after all. What was it people wrote about me?"

"Unkind things that we both worked hard to forget."

"Valid point." Tessa leans up on her elbows. "So now that you’re done being pissy, want to have a drink? I’ve been awake for thirty hours and need a nightcap!"

"Can’t. Gotta drive home," Scott sighs as he heaves himself up off the couch. He walks over to Tessa and reaches out, pulling her up. "Congrats, Tess. I’m proud of you, truly."

She grins up at Scott and gives him a hug. “Thanks. I guess we’re pretty awesome, huh? Kicking ass and taking names?”

Scott grins into her shoulder. She must be tired. He pulls away and presses a light kiss to her forehead. “Have a good week. I’ll see you in a few days.”

.::.::.::.

When Tessa comes home from class on Tuesday, she gets a text from her mom saying she’s in town for a meeting and that she was hoping to swing by for dinner. Not thinking of it, she agrees immediately, excited to see her mom. She neglects to remember the fact that Scott is living with her.

Looking around her apartment, she sees evidence of him everywhere.

“Shit.”

Before she can even do a thing, her mom is being buzzed up and she’s only put away shoes and a dirty laundry in the washing machine. A knock on the door sounds similar to a certain type of doom. She glances at her cat sitting primly on the sofa and takes a fortifying breath.

Opening the door, she wraps her mom in a tight hug and smiles. “So hey, funny story… Scott’s been staying in my guest room since February. It works pretty well. He cooks, we clean, he keeps me safe, I do his laundry. Good deal.”

She grins brightly at her mom who blinks back with owlish eyes. “What now?”

Thus commences an hour-long discussion over how this entire situation came to be and why it’s worked out so far. At the conclusion, the bewildered look Kate gives her is priceless. “One day, someone will ask me about the absolute insanity it’s been, dealing with the two of you, and I will unleash every single dirty detail.”

Tessa reheats some leftovers, courtesy of one Scott Moir, and talks about how the whole Brussels trip went, then Scott’s award’s banquet. She updates her mom on Tom’s new television, he’s quite proud of it. At the end of it all, Tessa shares a cup of tea with her mom, listening dutifully as Kate lists the many reasons why she and Scott need to get separate places.

At the very end though, she gives Tessa a kiss on the forehead and leaves her with this: “You’re both adults, doing important things and there’s a lot at stake. You made your choice, but this time? Be prepared to handle the fallout on your own. I love you.”

After she leaves, all is quiet and Tessa is left with her thinky thoughts and her mom’s voice. Oddly enough, she receives a text from Scott just then, asking if she has time for a quick adventure that weekend. Grinning, she replies in the affirmative. How could she pass up an adventure with Scott Moir?

A few minutes later, she realizes one small issue and calls up Scott. “What’s up?”

“Did you ever tell your mom you were living with me?”

“Yes? No? I’m not sure,” Scott hmmmms over the other end. “It never came up. Why?”

“My mom was just here. She knows now. So you better ensure that _your_ mom knows before she finds out from my mom.”

“God, this is like that one time we both got caught sneaking out and —“

“Scott? Focus,” Tessa sighs. “My mom listed several good reasons why we shouldn’t be living together.”

The silence on the other end is concerning, yet she pushes on. “But then she agreed that we do have a good think going for us, so that helps… somewhat.”

“Give me her reasons,” Scott states, his voice hard.

“We both have a tendency of hurting each other. We’re careless with the way we act around each other. We sometimes ignore the truth because it’s too painful…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Tessa’s phone buzzes just then, it’s her sister. “Listen, we’ll talk this weekend, okay? I gotta go, it’s Jordan.”

When she hangs up with Scott, she gets to have another twenty minutes of an earful from her dear, sweet sister. By the end of the night, she’s talked to her Dad as well as Scott’s mom, making this quite the family affair.

By Thursday, Tessa can only think about dance and possibly getting drunk for the first time since New Years. Unfortunately, half way through she feels the familiar heat of being watched and spots Scott sitting in the corner. Without a break in sight, Tessa continues on until the end of class, exhausted and thirsty.

Scott looks grim, indicating that his week was equally unpleasant. He shoulders her bag as they head outside, the air still warm. Tessa notices a red mark on his cheek, concerned.

“What’s that?” Tessa reaches out, but Scott ducks away, frowning.

“Turns out Sarah knows how to punch.” He shrugs. “I’m to inform you that the next time you’re in town, you owe her and Paul a long overdue explanation.”

“How’d Paul take it?”

Scott keeps his eyes straight ahead, making a sour face. “Let’s just say he expects either one of us to be dead come December, or for us to be engaged.”

“Oh wow, that’s extreme,” Tessa’s eyes widen. “Why’d you tell them?”

“I didn’t. My brother works with Paul a lot now. I guess he mentioned it to him. I don’t know. Look,” Scott stops in the middle of the sidewalk, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. “Maybe it’s time I move out.”

Tessa can feel her heartbeat in her ears and tries to ignore that splinter of ice in her chest, growing larger as the seconds pass. “Do you want to move out because you want to move out, or because everyone is telling you to?”

There must be something in the way she’s looking at him, because he clenches his jaw in a telling manner. “Tess —“

The ice explodes inside her and she feels the same pain as before. But she knew this time would come and she promised to be an adult about it. So she does the right thing, she puts on a brave face and she gives him an unaffected smile. “Don’t worry about it, Scott. I get it. Come on, I need to get home. I’ve got to head to the library.”

When she reaches out to take her bag from him, he keeps his grip tight on the bag, refusing to let it go. He turns and continues walking towards her building, stopping several feet away and looking back, nodding for her to follow. She’s continues forward, walking beside him in silence until they reach her building and nod at the security clerk in passing. Mentally, Tessa compiles a list of things she needs to get done, trying to ignore the heavy weight inside her chest.

Once they get inside the apartment, Tessa drops her keys on the table, smiling as Tiny Cat runs up to them and climbs up Scott, sitting on his shoulders. She bites her lip, trying to ignore the thought that he won’t get to do that much longer. Turning to go to her bedroom, she’s stopped by Scott grabbing her hand, pulling her back into a hug.

“I don’t want to leave,” he whispers into her neck.

Just like that, the ice shrinks to its former splinter and suddenly she’s not so afraid. She pulls back just enough to look him in the eyes. “Then don’t.”

He watches her for a moment, deliberating before asking a familiar question. “Do you believe me when I say you’re safe with me?”

She blinks once and nods slowly, maintaining eye contact. “Yes.”

A smile breaks over his face and she wonders how he does that, just brightens up a room with a simple expression. He pulls her to his chest again and squeezes her tightly.

The next day, she and Scott go on an adventure to the ice rink, where they skate and laugh for hours and hours and it’s magnificent.

.::.

"Don’t be a dummy, Meathead," calls the damn bird.

"Hey! Be nice," Tom calls from his seat at the table. "Paul, ignore the bird. Scott is typically the meathead."

"What does that tell you, Paul?" Matt grins as Paul tosses a pretzel at him. "Hey, watch it! This is the first night I’ve had out in months! You’ll poke my eye out with those!"

Scott grins as Matt ducks out of the way as Paul pelts him with pretzel sticks. “I’d say of anyone, I have grounds to be the most offended. I’m not a meathead.”

"I dunno Scotty," Joey says as he takes a sip of his beer. "You’ve been living with Tessa for months now, and you still aren’t together?"

Scott scowls at Paul, throwing some cheetos at him. “You told them? What for?”

"I’m sorry, did we sign a non-disclosure agreement? You never said to keep my mouth shut. Not my fault you two already act like an old married couple. You guys should have seen them the other day, it was disgusting."

"Seriously though Scott," Matt tosses a couple chips into the pot, fanning his cards absently. "What’s up with you two? You’re both single and roommates."

"And attractive," Joey blurts.

"Right," Paul and Matt nod. "Attractive, single roommates. You mean to tell me it hasn’t crossed your mind?"

“No. It was part of our agreement.”

“What else was involved? Topless pillow fights and facials on Saturdays? I mean… what do you do all the time?”

“I don’t know, normal stuff,” Scott sighs. “We aren’t home all that much. Sometimes we hang out with her friends or mine for dinner or we go out to eat. Sometimes we stay in and watch movies. It’s normal things you do with roommates.”

“Except your roommate is one of the most attractive people I’ve ever met,” Joey states point blank as Matt and Paul snicker while Tom frowns. “Seriously though. Do you ever just catch yourself staring at her?”

“No!” Scott whacks Joey on the head, rolling his eyes. “This is dumb. Tessa is just like all other females; trust me. Right now, I can guarantee she’s freaking out over her exam tomorrow and is probably hormonal.”

“See! You even know when it’s her time of the month,” Paul snaps. “How is this okay to you? HOW?”

Scott grows increasingly irritated as they continue to tease him. “I swear to God, NOTHING IS GOING ON!” He pushes off from the table, slamming down his cards. “Fuck off, all of you.”

Pushing open the back door with too much force, he lets it slam behind him and stomps around. He’d love to drive home, but he’s had a few drinks. Instead he slumps in a chair on Tom’s deck and stews in silence. Tom comes out five minutes later, tossing a wad of cash at Scott. “You had the winning hand.”

Scott glances at the money, uncaring. Tom remains in his seat next to Scott, not saying a thing. Instead, he stretches out his legs and crosses them at the ankle, sighing loudly. The baited silence is enough to draw Scott out.

"I don’t understand why it matters," Scott exhales, running his hands through his hair. "We’re good roommates."

"Of course you are," Tom replies sensible. "Tessa told me that you were staying with her a couple months ago, actually. She wanted to know if I thought it was a bad idea. I told her that she’d know more than anyone if it was a bad idea, but I promised I’d let her know if it became an issue for you."

"You knew!?" Scott leans forward, his elbows on his knees. "Eh, I’m not surprised."

"Kid, if you two are fine, you’re fine. Enjoy it. Don’t worry about anyone else. The way I see it, you two are smart enough to know when it’s time to figure it out."

Tessa received much of the same from Tom a few weeks ago when she dropped off a strawberry-rhubarb pie. Unlike Scott, she’s not spending all her free time dealing with the fallout of them living together. It’s more of a cut and dried thing for her.

Besides, she’s been dealing with things going on half a world away. Aimée and Olivia, the woman Tessa selected to run the resource center, have been moving full steam ahead with the plan for the resource center. Henri keeps her posted of developments, dropping the occasional hint that he wishes she’d visit sooner rather than later. She has a solid month of campaigning for funds, and if all goes well they’ll break ground by Christmas and actually complete the project next summer. Maybe then Tessa will get a full night’s sleep.

All things considered, she’s doing pretty good. Scott? Not so much. He has to suffer his mother’s wrath and his brothers punching him all the time. No matter how many times he says it, everyone still thinks they’re living in sin together and they don’t understand why he just won’t ask her to marry him.

Well he would, dammit. If he knew she’d say yes. But he doesn’t, so he won’t.

.::..::..::.

That Friday Scott gets to Tessa’s around four, exhausted and irritated. He spent a solid three hours interviewing some hockey players that were too big for their britches and couldn’t be bothered to focus on giving him quality answers. He also had to deal with his make-up artist who discovered two grey hairs and didn’t have the decency to hide it.

Once he gets home he goes to the gym for a jog then returns to shower. Dressed casually he tries to figure out how he’s going to talk Tessa into going out to dinner. Hopefully it’ll be a serious dinner where they clear the air, because it needs to happen, once and for all.

Suddenly, Tessa sweeps inside, a grocery bag on one arm, her school bag on the other shoulder, talking on her cell, and carrying books that weigh more than she does. She gives him a bright smile and puts the phone on speaker as she drops her grocery bag on the counter. They start unloading the bag quietly as she is told an epic story of a fierce battle.

"And I scored two goals! TWO. And everybody cheered so loud! Then we got pop afterwards."

"Pop huh?" Tessa grins at her phone, like whoever is talking on the other side can see her. "You didn’t drink too many did you?"

“Noooo,” the voice says, innocently.

“Tuba, are you sure?”

There’s a sigh and Scott smiles at the exasperated reply. “Okay, I had two. But that’s just because Isaiah didn’t want his.”

"Is that so?" Tessa raises her eyebrow, shaking her head at Scott. "You know, I’m pretty sure pop is Isaiah’s favorite thing in the world. It was awful nice of him to give you his coke, wasn’t it?"

The silence on the end of the line is such that the guilt nearly seeps through the phone. Tessa winks at Scott then picks up her phone and continues on down the hallway, laughing at whatever yarn Tuba is spinning. When she emerges from her room ten minutes later, she’s practically glowing. He finds that the foul mood he had when he arrived is starting fade away with her every step and twirl.

Because she is. Twirling.

"Wow, what’s your deal?"

Tessa gives him a luminous smile and grabs his hand pulling him away from the counter and spinning him around. “I killed it in mock trial today, then I got a free latte between class, the professor who hates me gave me a semi-decent mark on my last paper, ice cream was on sale at the store, Tuba is going to be a soccer star and Isaiah learned how to spell my name!”

At this point Scott is outright laughing at Tessa’s sheer giddiness. He takes a step back, worried that she’s going to make him throw his back out from sheer joy.

"Then we must celebrate!"

Tessa claps and jumps up and down. “Yes! Ooooh, there’s that new place down the street. We should go!”

"C’mon! I’m starving."

Looking down at herself, Tessa shakes her head vigorously. “Negative Ghostrider. I need… six minutes.”

"One minute more and I’m out the door." Scott calls out to her retreating back as she skips down the hallway.

With less than fifteen seconds to spare, Tessa flies down the hall with the same gusto she’s had since she entered. She grabs her purse, takes Scott’s arm, and is out the door before he even has a chance to blink.

The new restaurant is good but definitely still going through growing pains. It doesn’t matter, they give them each a glass of wine on the house to make up for a botched entree. Not in the mood to drink, Tessa slides hers over to Scott. He gladly accepts because Tessa is finally looking at him like things are getting back to normal. As in, two years ago, normal. They pay their tab then carry on down the street, entrenched in a heated discussion about the location of a gelato place they used to go to.

"Ha!" Tessa crows as they reach the street. "Imagine that, it’s exactly where I said it was!"

"Yeah yeah," Scott chuffs, rolling his eyes as she grabs his hand and pulls him down the street. She talks him into gelato. Tessa’s is decadent and his is predictably tame.

"I don’t know why you even bother. You could have at least gotten cinnamon dolce!" Tessa frowns as they walk slowly back to her apartment, scooping their gelato with tiny spoons.

"Hey now, I don’t mock you for getting some insane chocolate monstrosity. I like vanilla. I like the way it tastes and I like knowing that I’m not going to bite some random piece of coconut or a weird nut."

Tessa grins at how defensive he grows over his ice cream choice. They return to her building in companionable silence, stopping to chat with Juan the doorman before heading to the elevator.

Once they get inside she goes to change into pajamas while Scott starts making some hot chocolate. He hears his phone buzz on the counter and turns to see who’s calling. It’s Shannon, which isn’t completely strange, but unusual given the late hour.

"Hey," Scott says, as he leans against the counter. "What’s going on?"

"Hey Scott, listen, are you home right now?" Her voice sounds odd. Hollow somehow.

"No, you okay? Something wrong?"

"No, no. I’m fine," she replies, tired. "It’s uh… well, how long will it take you to get here?"

"I’ve been drinking and I’m in Toronto, so a little bit. Shannon, what’s going on?"

"It’s Tom… he’s had a heart attack," her voice is soft but it packs an emotional wallop. Scott feels the air leave his lungs as leans against the counter. "He’s… uh… Scott it doesn’t look good. He’s in the cath lab now, but I don’t know if he’s going to make it."

Scott frowns, his eyebrows drawing together. He can’t talk, there’s this jagged rock lodged at the back of his throat. He doesn’t understand. He was just there two days ago.

"Scott, are you okay?"

He heaves out a breath like an elephant is sitting on his chest, gritting out the words. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

"I’ll keep you posted, okay?"

"Thanks." He shuts off his phone, clutching it tightly in his hand as he shuts his eyes, turning and sliding down to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest.

"Wow, I am wired. I think I had too much gelato because woooo," Tessa says as she breezes into the living room. She glances around but doesn’t see Scott in the kitchen or the living area. She’s about to walk back to his room when she sees him sitting on the floor, head against his knees.

Confused, her brow furrows as she walks a bit closer. Her confusion quickly turns to fear as she sees his pallor and the look on his face when he glances up at her.

"Scott?" she drops to the floor in front of him as he covers his eyes with his hands, coughing.

"Hey," she whispers, as she pulls his hands away, "what’s wrong, Scotty? What happened?"

He looks up at her and frowns, leaning forward into her. Between deep breaths and with a scratchy voice, Tessa learns about Tom. She keeps Scott wrapped up tightly until his breathing slows, his head burrowed against her neck and her cheek pressed against the top of his head.

By the time Scott is fit to slide back and take in some air, he finds he’d much rather stay curled up against her. However, Tessa is already pulling away to go change clothes and pack an overnight bag. He remains on the floor, his head pounding and feeling fuzzy.

Tessa emerges with her school bag and another duffle, carrying his own bag on her other arm. She drops everything by the door and pulls him up off the kitchen floor, wiping his face with her hands and getting him a glass of water, which he downs quickly. She hands him his bag, picks up her own, and then tugs his hand out the door. No words are exchanged, just comforting touches.

He’s not fully aware of what’s going on until they’ve been on the road for a solid thirty minutes. Scott’s eyes drift from the road down to his lap where Tessa’s hand is bound tightly in his. They’re in her car and she’s driving slightly over the speed limit, more concerned with getting to the hospital in an expeditious manner.

He texts Shannon once they arrive at the hospital and she meets them near the employee’s entrance to the emergency department. She doesn’t even make a face when she sees Tessa with Scott, just a nod of solidarity as she silently leads them upstairs through quiet corridors and sterile spaces.

"He’s been out of surgery for over an hour. They’ll be moving him to a room soon enough. Just wait in the lobby and I’ll have the nurse come grab you when they’re ready." Shannon gives Scott a squeeze on the arm as he nods his thanks, then moves down the hall to discuss the situation at the nurse’s station.

Scott and Tessa take a seat in the waiting area, silent and tired. He emails Tom’s sons, letting them know what’s going on. He gets a call shortly after from Tom’s oldest son, saying the hospital already called and that he’s waiting at the airport now for a flight. His younger son takes longer to respond, most likely working. He won’t be able to get away until the next day, as his ship is caught up in a storm and he won’t be able to catch a helicopter until it passes.

The entire time, Tessa remains with him, stoic yet comforting. Without even asking, she gets him a drink and a banana, knowing he gets cranky when he’s hungry. Fortunately, she calls Mike at the station and explains the situation, saying Scott is at the hospital and won’t be at work. She goes out to the car to grab his phone charger when he mentions his battery is running low, returning just as the nurse agrees to allow Scott to come back. Scott negotiates for Tessa to come with him, and together they proceed to Tom’s room.

Wires and lines stick out everywhere, and there’s a tube in his mouth helping him breathe. Reflexively Scott’s hands tighten into fists, but finds that one hand is already filled with Tessa’s. She stands with him as Scott reaches out, slow and gentle, to glide his fingers down Tom’s pale hand. They pull up the chairs and take watch; quiet sentinels observing a once stalwart presence.

Shannon stops by with food after she gets off shift, commiserating with the pair as they watch over Tom. Scott gives her a key and asks her to swing by Tom’s to pick up something for him. Raising her eyebrow, she does as he asks, saying she’ll return in the early afternoon.

Scott starts telling Tessa some more of Tom’s stories about his life at sea. They’re colorful and loud and larger than life. Occasionally Scott will stop, the words catching in his throat, but more often than not, he continues the tales, loving the stories, loving the way Tessa laughs at them.

Eventually Paul and Matt drop by, both hearing the news, relaying that Joey is stuck at work. They bring a deck of cards and a bag of chips, ignoring the dirty look the nurse gives them as they walk in. The four ease into conversation around Tom’s bed, laughing and contemplative at intervals. They’re sent out when the doctor comes in for rounds, irritated when they don’t get much in reply when asking. When Shannon returns, she’s able to get them an update, saying that he might be going back in for another procedure later, but only if his vital signs improve.

She hands Scott the bottle of Scotch, it’s Tom’s favorite. Scott sets it on the table next to him, as Shannon takes a seat with the rest of them, far surpassing the guest policy. They all continue on in the same manner for hours, daylight slipping back into night.

Tom goes in for another procedure, coming out with flying colors this time. His oldest son arrives early the next morning, tired and ashen. Only Scott and Tessa have stayed the whole time, both looking worse for the wear. Scott shakes his hand and the pair clear out, leaving son with father.

“You should go home, get a shower,” Scott offers, finally realizing that it’s early Sunday morning.

“Actually,” Tessa frowns, fiddling with her sleeve. “I have to go soon. I have to prep for mock trial again tomorrow. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” Scott smiles at her, shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry, I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you were with me. I have no idea what I would have done. Seriously.”

“You’d have been fine,” Tessa smiles, squeezing his hand, “you’re always fine.”

He pulls her in for a hug, shutting his eyes for a moment as they lean against each other. “I’m only fine because you’re here.”

Tessa pulls away and smiles at him. “I’m going to peek my head in. Maybe he’s finally awake.”

Scott trails behind her, watching as she walks over to the bed and reaches out for his hand. He’s still out, but breathing on his own. She places a kiss on his forehead then pulls away, flicking an errant tear away. He forgets sometimes, how much she hates showing weakness.

She squeezes Scott’s arm in passing, asking for an update if anything changes.

Tom’s younger son arrives late that evening, just in time for Tom to wake up. He’s weak and hardly himself, but Scott’s more than happy to see that old codger barking for some real food. Just before he leaves for the night, Scott pours the four of them a finger of Scotch holding their paper cups up in toast.

“To that phantom foe, Death. Though your visit was brief, I hope not to see you again for some time.”

In full agreement, Scott savors the smooth burn, all the way down.

.::.::.::.

Two weeks later, Scott gets to Tessa’s and discovers a less than pleasant situation. Tiny Cat comes running down the hall upon arrival, meowing at him and circling his feet. This is unusual in that Tiny Cat typically climbs up him and sits on his shoulders when Scott arrives at home, but today that is not the case. He circles Scott one more time then goes down the hall, stopping halfway to make sure he’s coming.

Doing as he’s told, Scott follows Tiny Cat down the hall but stops at the threshold to Tessa’s room. Not once has he ever been in here and the thought of doing it when she’s not home makes him a bit nervous. But Tiny Cat comes back and meows impatiently, so Scott takes a settling breath and sticks his head in, frowning at what he sees.

Curled up in a heap on the bed is Tessa. It smells… not good in here. Like vomit and sour sweat. The trashcan is actually sitting beside her, along with a mound of used kleenex. An empty glass and a bottle of tylenol sit on her nightstand. Carefully, he walks over to her bed, placing a hand on the leg that is sticking out from the comforter. Her skin is red and hot, like she’s feverish. Frowning, he searches through the covers until he finds a mass of tangled brown hair and a very flushed and sweaty Tessa.

She squints up at him and frowns, muttering something about cold, before reaching for the blankets. Biting his lip in contemplation, he reaches over and grabs all the kleenex and shoves them into the trash, grabs her empty glass and returns to the kitchen. He dumps the waste and refills her glass, looking for some of the orange gatorade he purchased earlier.

He calls Shannon, because this is not good. After a quick assessment, Shannon offers to text her dad since he lives in the area and see if he can drop by. Immensely grateful, Scott agrees and thanks her profusely.

When he returns to Tessa’s room, she’s somehow migrated closer to the side of the bed, almost like she’s trying to ooze over to the bathroom. Kneeling in front of her, Scott pulls the covers from her face.

"Tess, do you need to go to the bathroom?"

Eyes still closed, she takes a moment to respond, nodding when she finally does. He pulls the covers away, averting his gaze when he realizes she’s only in a camisole and boy shorts. He steadies her as she rises out of bed, moving slowly to the loo. He tries gets her pulse as they walk and it’s beating way to fast and weak for him to count. Once she gets inside, he shuts the door and returns to her bed, setting it to rights.

When she flushes the toilet Scott figures she’ll emerge soon, but after five minutes he hears nothing coming from the bathroom.

"Tessa?" he knocks on the door, but no answer. "Tess, I’m going to open the door okay?"

He finds her curled up on the cool tile of her bathroom floor, her head pillowed on her bath mat. It would be comical if she weren’t so ill. Squatting, he grabs her hand and hooks her arm around his neck, then reaches beneath her knees, rising slowly. He ignores the scent of sour sweat and sick coming off her flushed skin, easing her onto the bed. There’s a brief episode of water drinking, pill swallowing, promptly followed by well aimed vomiting.

The door buzzes just then, and Scott feels infinitely better. “Thank GOD,” Scott mutters as he jogs to the door, waiting impatiently for Dr. Mitchell senior to arrive. Scott greets him at the elevators, exchanging a handshake then quickly relaying what he knows to the good doctor. Once they get to her room, he pulls away the sheets and starts assessing her, frowning as he does so.

"Tessa, hi, can you tell me where you are right now?" She murmurs something, but Scott can’t hear it. He crosses his arms, trying to prevent himself from pacing. Dr. Mitchell continues to coax information from Tessa all the while writing information down on a pad of paper.

Looking in his backpack, he pulls out a couple things, making Scott realize that he’s going to give Tessa an IV. Oh this isn’t illegal at all. Such a bad idea.

"Maybe I should do that instead of you. I mean… this could be dangerous for you… professionally."

"It’s an IV, Scott, not heart surgery. I want you to get an ice bath going, okay? Then grab me some towels and a change of clothes for her."

Four hours later, Tessa is resting in bed, her fever broken and no longer vomiting. Scott is sitting with Dr. Mitchell at the dining table, a stack of her books pushed to the side as the two men discuss what happened.

"I can’t believe she had malaria and never said anything," Scott frowns, twisting his cup around in irritation. Dr. Mitchell, a young looking 60 year old, still has a majority of his dark hair and is fit as a horse, having passed his affinity for running on to his daughter.

"I expect there’s a lot she didn’t tell you from that trip. Tell anyone, really. I still go on medical mission trips, South America, mostly. It’s… it’s a different life and not everyone is cut out for it. But for many, myself included, we feel drawn to that type of work. The only problem is relating it to people who can’t fathom why we do it in the first place."

"So you just stop sharing all together."

"No, it’s just that many times we share stories that we don’t find scary or perhaps have become immune to the threat, but others find alarming. Knowing what I do of Tessa, I expect she doesn’t enjoy others telling her what to do, so she’d rather play the ‘need to know’ game and keep the real danger to herself."

Scowling, Scott drains his mug and sits back in his chair. “Isn’t that a bit selfish?”

"Why? Because she doesn’t want others to worry about her?" Dr. Mitchell shrugs. "It’s a natural response. Then again, have you ever sat down and asked her what it was like? What all she did?"

"I always figured she’d tell me when she was ready."

A few minutes later, Dr. Mitchell places his cup in the sink and leaves a set of instructions in Scott’s care.

"I’ll be by tomorrow after my shift to check on her. Call me if you get concerned." Dr. Mitchell shakes Scott’s hand as he passes. "Don’t worry though. I’ve had malaria at least three, four times. Lots of fever dreams, hallucinations, lots of sweating. Just stay by her and keep her safe."

Scott absorbs the man’s words and prepares for a night-long vigil. When he retreats to Tessa’s room, she’s completely out because one of the drugs was sedating. He takes the opportunity to straighten up the rest of her room while she sleeps. There are books everywhere. Stacked beside her bed, lining the far wall, stacked in a corner. An insomniac’s paradise. Then the pictures. She has almost an entire wall of pictures in various frames, shapes and sizes, all from the past few years.

On her bedside table is a picture of Tessa sitting with Sister Rosa, her head on Sister Rosa’s shoulder, hands clasped tight. It makes him think of Tom, makes him think off the gaping hole he’d have in his chest if things had turned out for the worst.

By two am, her fever returns and with it, Scott’s anxiety. She’s not throwing up anymore, so she keeps down the Tylenol, but she’s restless. She keeps asking, “Peter, where’s that tea? Your mom’s tea. That made everything better.”

"Who’s Peter?"

Tessa doesn’t reply, just rolls over. She asks Scott to read her a book, which he does, selecting the closest one he can find. It’s Frankenstein. Not the best choice. He picks up the second one and furrows his brow. The Four Loves. Quietly, he begins reading aloud.

Tessa falls asleep within minutes, rousing again at seven. Scott still has to go into work, but her fever won’t go away and he’s terrified. He goes in anyway, but leaves as soon as he possibly can, not even bothering to take off his make-up or suit. When he gets home, she’s in much the same shape as when he left.

Dr. Mitchell drops by, says she should start to improve by tomorrow, but it’s still important to keep an eye on her over night. Scott nods, trying to ignore his own exhaustion. At some point, he falls asleep in the chair beside her bed, waking when he hears her retching again. He hands her a glass of water and some more nausea medicine, hoping she’ll be able to keep some tylenol down this time.

She’s flushed and sweaty next time he wakes, this time she’s sitting up looking semi-coherent.

"Hey, how are you?" Scott rises from his chair and sits beside her on the bed. He reaches out to touch her hand, but she pulls away. Confused, he leans forward, trying to figure out what’s going on.

"Why are you here?" she whispers, her throat dry and scratchy.

"Because I want to be here. Because you’re sick."

"I’m fine," she sniffs, frowning at him with a dark look. "I don’t need you."

The brusque reply holds surprising sting. He edges back, unprepared for her reaction. “Did I do something wrong?”

She pulls her blanket up to her chin and settles back against her pillows, thin lipped. He finally gets a good look at her face and realizes that her eyes are glassy and her face is flushed. This is still a fever dream.

"Did I hurt you?" he whispers, drawing closer with caution. This time when he reaches out at lays a hand on her leg, she doesn’t recoil.

"Do I still make you miserable?" she asks in a quiet voice.

"No, definitely not. The complete opposite, in fact." This is the first time he allows himself to acknowledge the fact that she makes everything wonderful. He watches as her blinking grows longer until she’s asleep. He’s not sure what happened, or what she thinks just happened, but he hopes that it’s over. He decides to edge back to her headboard and lean against it, in case she wakes again. Scott picks up the same book, but starts to drift away shortly thereafter, his head falling back on the headboard.

He’s not sure what makes him wake up, but then he realizes that his bedmate is stiff as a board and this is mildly scary. He can’t tell if it’s a fever dream or if she’s hallucinating. She seems to be pressing her body into the mattress, holding her breath and tightening her hands up around the sheets. Whatever demon she’s facing, she’s doing it alone.

As quickly as it came, the episode passes. Her breathing returns to normal and her limbs loosen. Scott reaches out and smoothes some hair away from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. Her eyes flutter open and she blinks several times, yawning. She reaches out and traces his fingers, resting in his lap. She looks so small and young that he wonders if they’ve gone back in time.

Tessa pulls her legs up into her ball form that he knows so well. He hopes this is a sign she’s getting better.

"Please go away," she whispers as she curls against his arm. "I can’t… I can’t. I’m not strong enough to be around you when I’m like this."

Brow furrowed, Scott straightens slightly. “What do you mean?”

"Please. If you don’t mean it, I need you to go."

"But I don’t want to go," he replies hoarsely. She looks up at him as a tear escapes, trailing down her cheek. He reaches out to wipe it away, but her hand reaches up to catch his, clasping it in her own and bringing it to her chest, just over her heart. Her eyes slowly fall shut and she settles into sleep again.

He’s so confused. What just happened? Is this a fever dream or did she just admit that she still has feelings for him? Either way, he needs her to get better ASAP because they have serious matters to discuss. Like feelings. And the fact that she didn’t tell anyone she freaking had malaria.

Scott eases beneath the covers, grabbing what he hopes is an unaffected pillow and shoving it under his head. He remains there for an untold period, watching Tessa as she sleeps, his eyes slowly drifting shut to the feel of her heart beating beneath his hand.

He wakes in the early morning to find Tessa still curled up, her head pillowed flat against the mattress, like she’s head butting his arm. He absently wonders if she always sleeps like this, but finds that he’d rather find out for himself instead of asking. He places his hand on her forehead and determines that her fever is broken and the worst is past.

Instead of moving his hand, he lets it linger, tracing her brow with his thumb, gliding the tips of his fingers over her cheek and along the column of her neck. He stops with his palm over her heart, the same position he fell asleep in last night.

Out of curiosity he checks his own pulse against the beating of her heart and feels a subtle warmth sweep through him at learning their hearts are beating together. Then he realizes how lame he’s being and rolls his eyes to himself, pulling his hand away from her carefully.

Knowing that if she wakes up to find him in her bed, she’ll most likely be less than pleased. He eases out carefully, ensuring the covers are tucked around her.

Hours later, the sound of Tessa using her shower lifts his spirits immensely. He decides to put some saltine crackers on a plate and slice up an apple, hoping it won’t be too rough on her stomach. When she emerges, she looks and smells ten times better. He beams at her brightly, pleased to receive a tired grin in reply.

"Look who finally decided to get out of bed!" Scott affects a light demeanor in hopes of not scaring her off.

"Sorry I wasn’t… I got really sick Wednesday after class," she shakes her head. "I couldn’t even get out of bed Thursday."

"I gathered that, based on the trash can full of sick and mountain of tissues."

Embarrassed, Tessa covers her bare face with her hands, sighing. “Yeah, well… I feel okay now, I guess. I just have a ton of work to do.”

"Are you going to the library?" Scott frowns, displeased. That would make it hard for him to keep an eye on her and her wellbeing.

"I’m not sure yet. I figured I’d eat, do some reading here, then migrate over there for study group later."

"Do you normally have study group on Sunday?"

Tessa looks up at him, alarmed. “Wait. It’s Sunday?”

Scott nods, watching as she pales. “Yeah, I uh… you’ve been out for a while. I even had a doctor over here. He’s coming by later, as a matter of fact.”

"Why?"

"Because you had a fever of 40, you goofball. Did it never occur to you to maybe mention that you had malaria when you were in Uganda"

Tessa shrugs, unapologetic. She finishes her glass of water and starts collecting her books, preparing to retreat back to her den of sickness and despair. Scott talks her into staying in the living area in the sunlight while he strips her bed and sprays down everything in sight, including the cat, with disinfectant.

Scott calls out of work at the firestation the next day, too exhausted to drive home and not fully sold that Tessa is doing a hundred percent better. She falls asleep twice while she’s reading, a low-grade fever returning near bedtime.

"Scott, I’m okay, I swear. You don’t need to stay and babysit me. I’ll be fine."

Scott ignores how similar she sounds to when she angrily said she didn’t need him last night. At least this time she seems more exasperated and less furious. Settling onto the couch beside her, he turns and faces her with a look of absolute seriousness on his face.

"The past four days have been absolute hell. You’ve thrown up everywhere, you’ve said some crazy shit, you’ve practically been unconscious for days, and not only that, you can’t even remember most of it. Unless you plan on carrying me to my car and driving me home, there is no way I am leaving you alone. Got it?"

Wide eyed and abashed, Tessa nods. Quietly, she returns to her work as Scott picks up the book he was reading earlier. Granted he spends half his time watching her, but he’s able to focus when it counts..

Tessa goes to class on Monday and returns late that evening, looking haggard. Otherwise, she passes Scott’s inspection.

"Do I pass muster? I made it through a whole day of lectures and a fierce hour of mooting. Not only that, but I threw down with my professor earlier because I could not handle any of his shit and I called him on it."

"Well look at you, kicking ass and taking names!" Scott holds up his hand in high five as she slaps it with a smile. "Alright, I think you’re good to go. Just let me know how you’re feeling in the morning, okay?

They squabble back and forth as Scott packs up his bag and prepares to go. It’s comforting, falling back into the same banter that’s escaped them as of late. He hopes this means things will get back to normal.

Tessa’s leaning against the arm of the couch, arms crossed petulantly as he slings his duffle over his shoulder and grabs his leftovers. He stops in front of her and holds his arms out expectantly for a hug. They don’t usually part for the week in such an affectionate manner, but something has shifted yet again and neither is bothering to question it.

Wrapping her arms around him as she rests her chin on his shoulder, Scott tucks his head into her neck, remembering what she whispered the other night. He’s not sure why, but he feels a flicker of hope in his chest at that moment and decides that he’s going to do his best to get her to open up her heart again. He’ll be much more careful, this time around.

Over the next couple weeks, it’s a slow process, getting Tessa to talk about Uganda, all the nitty gritty details. He finds that he has to trade a story to get a story, and learns after some reading about Ugandans that this is a trait Tessa has acquired from them. It’s tedious, but worth it, enriching their time together in various ways.

It’s also problematic because in getting her to open up her heart, he’s starting to do the same. Neither is oblivious to this fact, but it's a tenuous trade agreement they’ve embarked upon without a clear endgame declared. Dangerous, yes. Worth it? Absolutely.

Of course, things never go smoothly.

.::.

One morning, Tessa drops a piece of news that quickly makes Scott aware of how head over heels he is.

"Henri is coming?" Scott freezes in front of the toaster, drawing up to his full height. Tessa watches as his seemingly unawake body snaps to full attention at this information.

"Yeah, at the end of the month," Tessa replies, perplexed by his reaction. "We’ve both got several meetings to attend and then he’ll be leaving to go visit his daughter."

Scott sets down his knife, only halfway finished putting jam on his toast. He seems to be thinking very hard about something, but she can’t fathom what it could be. Concerned, she rises from her stool and goes to the coffee pot to pour some more coffee. She pulls out a mug for Scott as well and hands it over to him, but he’s still staring straight ahead, lost in a trance. Reaching out, she touches his arm briefly, causing him to startle as he turns to her, blinking hard.

She’s about to open her mouth to ask if he’s okay, but instead he blurts out this beauty:

"You’re not going to sleep with him, are you?"

Her eyebrows shoot upwards in dismay as he clamps a hand over his mouth, clearly shocked by what he just said. Taking a step back and holding up his hands, he frowns, shaking his head. “Sorry, please forget I said that, I… didn’t mean that. I’m gonna go get ready for work.”

He’s out the door fifteen minutes later and barely returns the rest of the weekend. Smooth, Moir. Real smooth.

.::.

The following weekend, Scott has arrived in town with a battle plan for how he needs to declare his intentions toward Tessa. Except it’s not working out at all.

"Are you okay? You’ve barely eaten anything all day and I basically spilled half my water in my lap at dinner and you didn’t mock me once."

Scott nods, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah. I’m fine. Fine. Just… Lot’s of stuff going on.”

Tessa doesn’t buy one word of it, but figures this restaurant isn’t the best place for a serious conversation. Instead, she forgoes dessert and asks for the check. They toss in a few bills each and rise, ready to leave.

Even though he knows the way back, he says nothing when Tessa continues straight when they would have normally turned, leading them down a few streets he’s less familiar with. Perhaps it’s his state of mind, or maybe he’s just really tired, either way he nearly gets run over when crossing the street.

"Wow, are you trying to get yourself killed?" Tessa asks as she pulls him back to safety, her hand tight in his. He shakes his head and sighs, freeing his hands and running them through his hair.

"Sorry, sorry, I just…" he huffs out a breath and looks up at her, his eyes shrouded with doubt. "I need to say something, but I need you to not get angry with me, because this is really hard."

Tessa opens her mouth, then shuts it, concerned that whatever he’s going to say is about to make her night exponentially worse. Instead she just nods, crossing her arms tightly.

A few moments pass as Scott paces back in forth in front of her on the sidewalk. Finally, he stops and faces her. “Here’s the deal. I —”

He shakes his head, not liking that approach and clears his throat. “Would… would you like to go on a date with me?”

The blank expression on her face makes him wonder if she heard him. Then she blinks hard and shakes her head, as though mentally rewinding what just happened. “A date?”

Scott nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yes.”

"We just left dinner. A bad one. Are you sure you’re okay?" Tessa cocks her head to the side, genuinely concerned for his well-being.

"Positive. Here’s the thing, I think…" Scott exhales, wishing she could just intuit what’s so hard to say. "I’m not afraid anymore. Not… of there being an us and I needed to —"

Tessa holds up her hand, cutting him off. “Is this because of Henri?”

Scott blinks, shaking his head, “What? No… well not directly. I was… I was waiting for the right time to say something, I initially planned on waiting until you had that week long break at the end of summer so then if…” Scott looks up at her and realizes she’s holding her breath. “Him coming only expedited my confession. That and the thought of you and him…. together…. made me physically ill.”

Back stiff, Tessa is clenching her jaw in an ominous way and Scott tries to backtrack. “Look, I just… All I’m saying is that I stopped being afraid a while ago and —”

"Stop talking."

"What?"

"Stop… this," Tessa, she motions between them. "We always do this. Always. We do this when the other person isn’t ready and I feel like at this point in time we should be asking permission to potentially destroy not just one relationship, but many."

She exhales for a moment, looking up at the sky then back at him. “So what I need, is for you to stop with your confession. You said you were willing to wait before, I need you to wait.”

Scott nods, just happy she hasn’t slapped him or walked away.

"This is how we’re going to do it this time, I’m going to figure out if I still even… trust you in that capacity, because I can tell you right now, I don’t. Sorry, but it’s true. I know I love you, but it’s worthless if I can’t trust you with that part of me. So all I’m asking for is time. I need you to not turn around and go hook up with the first woman you meet, I need you to not start dating someone immediately, I need you to wait."

"Deal. I will wait." Scott’s fine with this plan. Very fine. 100%.

"And you need to figure out how you want to finish that awful speech. Because honestly? You’ve had better. You’re ‘not afraid’ anymore? Scott, everyone is afraid. That’s where the trust part comes in. You would be trusting me with the most important part of you, relying on me to keep it safe. It’s good to know that you aren’t afraid but I still don’t think you’re ready."

Frowning in dismay, Scott takes a step forward. “Why? How do you know that?”

"Because we both know this is a forever kind of thing, and I don’t think you’ve grasped that concept yet."

"Trust me," Scott huffs, "I’ve thought about it plenty. It’s all I think about. I want a deal that says we get to take care of each other for the rest of our lives, I want an official acknowledgement stating we belong to each other, I want to spend every Saturday playing pick up hockey or dance with our kids and movie nights with you dressed in fleece bundled up on our couch, I want us making food on sundays, arguing on wednesdays, sex all the days, I want worldly travel adventures with you, I want you stealing my blankets, making me freeze to death for the rest of my life. I want you with me, forever. I want you with me always. I want me with you always. We’re a team. It’s what we do. Life. Together."

Tessa stares at him, a lone tear escaping. She flicks it away quickly and averts her gaze, swallowing hard as she whispers, “That was better. Much better.”

Scott takes a step forward, tentative, but she steps back in warning, shaking her head again. “Come on, let’s head home. Try not to get hit by a car this time.”

.::.

For the next two weeks, Tessa continues on as though nothing happened. Scott does the same, because ultimately, nothing really changed except for declaring himself hers for all eternity. No big deal.

Sometimes he catches her staring at nothing, gnawing on her lip, lost in thought. One night at dinner with friends, he catches her watching him, cataloguing every single moment in her mind. It reminds him of when they were younger and she was quieter, shier, when she’d sit back and watch him act crazy. Half the time he did it was because he knew she was watching.

The weekend Henri is in town, he doesn’t see her much, but she returns every night and that’s as much as he could ask for. If she emerges from her room looking like she’s been crying, he has the decency not to draw attention to it. The following week, they continue on as they have been, ignoring the giant pink elephant in the room.

One Friday when Scott is wrapping up at the station, one of the production assistants tells him Tessa is waiting in the lobby. Brow furrowed, he checks his phone to see if she texted him. No, nothing. He doesn’t think anything of it, knowing she’s in this area at least once a week when she clerks at one of the law firms nearby.

He fires off one more email then grabs his suit coat and heads for the door. When he descends the stairs he catches sight of Tessa wearing a smart looking red wool coat, chatting with a couple of the guys he works with.

Something about her seems different to him, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. He does know that when she turns to face him, she gives him a smile so warm and familiar that he actually stumbles a bit, thrown. He will never understand how she does that, make his heart stop with just a look. But she can and does, unconsciously at that.

"Hey there, is something wrong?" Scott asks as he walks up and places his hand on her back, trying appear unaffected.

"No, I was over here for a meeting so I just thought I’d grab you for dinner," she doesn’t quite meet his eye, so he’s not a hundred percent sure she’s telling the truth. Regardless, she’s here and he’s hungry, sounds good.

"That works," Scott turns to the fellas and waves them off, ignoring one or two pointed looks and one idiot who starts fanning his face when Tessa turns away toward the exit.

They chat about their days as she leads them a few blocks away down a side street that houses a couple boutique shops and what appears is a small restaurant. Except once inside, Scott realizes it’s three stories high, not one. It’s all open concept, with an expansive, eclectic chandelier hanging the length of two of the floors. It’s large, yet homey at the same time. Confusing.

They’re led to an unusually shaped corner booth that breeds intimacy. Settling in, Scott raises his eyebrow at Tessa, curious as to how this evening is going to shape out. She simply arches an eyebrow and peruses the wine list, leaving Scott to do the same.

As they place their orders and the wine arrives, Tessa continues to remain silent, more in contemplation than for lack of conversation. Scott doesn’t mind, distracted by the happenings going on in the center of the restaurant. A trio is setting up their instruments in the corner, which intrigues Scott immensely.

Finally, when Tessa does speak, she waits until Scott is taking a sip, causing him to choke.

"Say that again?" Scott croaks, not sure he heard her correctly.

"I said that I want three children," she states primly, watching as he sets down his glass. He takes in her words, trying to figure out what is going on. Judging by the look on her face, he is sure she is serious, but to what end?

Deciding to play along, he shrugs. “I kinda wanted four.”

"Are you the one bearing them?"

"No, but…"

"Okay then," Tessa shoots back. "I also refuse to name them after any of your friends, regardless of what bets you’ve lost."

"Hey, that was one time," Scott smiles, liking the direction of this conversation. "Besides, Matty has a great name. Very strong."

"The only person I’ll agree to is Tom, that’s it."

Scott’s smile slides off his face, causing him to frown at the thought. Tessa’s hand slides onto his knee, squeezing it gently and drawing his attention. “Sorry, I… wasn’t being glib.”

He covers her hand with his before she can remove it, nodding. When he looks up again, he makes a request of his own. “Sunday dinners. I want to be at those at least twice a month.”

Tessa nods in agreement. “Me too. Unless your handsy uncle is there.”

"Yeah, maybe not all the dinners." Scott takes a piece of bread and tears it apart, one part nervous one part excited. "What about holidays?"

"It’s not like our parents live that far apart. I feel like we can do both without having to split it all up. Besides, doesn’t your family open Christmas presents on Christmas Day?"

"Yes, because yours is weird and opens on Christmas Eve. What’s the point, really? Do you open your birthday presents the night before your birthday?"

A five minute detour into the oddities of each other’s family ensues. When their salads are brought out, both are rolling their eyes at each other and mildly huffy.

"Back to the matter at hand," Tessa returns to her initial topic. "You are aware that I have two years left of my program, correct?"

"Yes. I also fully understand that you want to return to Uganda at Christmas."

She nods, twisting her fork. “And I want you to come with me.”

Scott finishes his bite, then washes it down with a large sip of wine as he buys some time. “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t frighten me.”

"Don’t worry, Scotty," Tessa replies quietly. "I’ll keep you safe."

Scott’s breath leaves him, his heart stutters, and he gives up the very last part of himself to her. “I’ll hold you to that.”

She exchanges a look with him that is equally warm and sexy and he feels like he’s swimming in a euphoric haze. Over the course of the meal, they lay down the rest of their concerns, her schooling, his career, their home, her work.

When the trio finally starts playing, Scott feels what it’s like to be on the receiving end of her darkened eyes and mischievous smile, the one that promises adventure and wickedness. He cannot wait.

Scott drives them home, feeling like his veins are buzzing. Not once has Tessa touched him, but it doesn’t matter because she’s watching him the whole time. All he can focus on the entire way they’re going up to her place is how much he likes that red coat, how green it makes her eyes.

She unlocks the door and he walks inside, unzipping his jacket. She’s quiet as they put their coats away, making Scott nervous. Maybe dinner is as far as she’s willing to go right now.

He’s okay with that, though.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Tessa asks as she pads barefoot into the kitchen, fetching a glass of water. He walks behind her and opens the fridge, pulling out the pitcher of water. They drink their glasses quietly, tension of all sorts mounting by the second. Scott knows that if he stays with her much longer, he’s going to do something he’ll regret. A pragmatic discussion about their future does not equal physical intimacy.

But before he can make up some weak excuse and retreat to the safety of his room, he feels Tessa slide her hand inside his, the same way she used to when he’d get anxious before a competition. Her skin is warm and smooth as she leads him down the long hall to her bedroom.

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until she’s standing in front of him, her skin luminous in the moonlight. He wonders if she can hear his heart beating, but soon enough she reaches out her free hand and places it on his heart, calming the rhythm. His hand seeks out her heart as well, thumping in her chest.

Grinning at their mutual anxiety, he reaches out and wraps his arms around her, sighing as she does the same. Soon their breathing synchronizes, and then, their hearts. He kisses her then, soft and slow like he could do it forever.

Tessa pulls away, her eyes trained on Scott’s. Slowly, she unbuttons his shirt, knocking his hands away when he tries to help. She pulls it off, letting it drop to the ground as she slides her hands up his chest slowly, refamiliarizing herself with every plane and groove. A puff of air on her forehead draws her attention from her pensive review to a man in utter torment. His eyes are clenched shut as he bites his bottom lip, hands fisted, holding back with everything he’s got.

Not quite finished, she walks around, hands smoothing over quivering muscles then dipping down over his very tight and very well formed buttocks. She may or may not squeeze for good measure, earning a squeak from him. When she returns to facing him, her expression is a combination of mischief and desire, such a powerful combination.

Reaching for his belt, she makes quick work of the strap of leather and the button of his slacks. They crumple to the floor and yet, Scott remains still, his breathing somewhat labored. Tessa pulls him forward out of his pants until he’s standing before her in his boxer briefs and socks, every single cell in his body humming with life.

She slides her hands over his butt again, kneeling slowly as she runs her hands down the backside of his legs until she reaches his socks. Removing them one at a time, she rests a moment, running her nails up his legs, watching as the bulge in his briefs becomes more pronounced. With one last clean sweep, she removes his boxer briefs, freeing him. Knowing that to touch right now would be unkind, she simply releases a cool breath along his length.

She rises, watching as his eyes open and refocus on hers, almost completely black. She leans forward slowly, pressing her lips on his chest, the skin overlying that vital organ beating furiously. His head falls slightly, his lips grazing her forehead.

She takes a step back, causing Scott to follow one step forward as though magnetically drawn to her. He reaches out and grabs her hands first, bringing them to his lips as he presses kisses to her palms. Lowering them, he then glides the tips of his fingers up her arms, stopping at the base of her neck. Tracing the edge of her dress, he unclasps the top and unzips the rest, letting it fall to the floor next to his slacks.

He begins his perusal, one that is easily twice as long as Tessa’s because she’s ticklish and it’s slow going. He spots a scar on the side of her knee that he never knew about, frowning as he looks up at Tessa. She shakes her head, not a big deal and he continues on his journey, palms growing hotter as he passes once, twice over her bum and the small of her back. Unclasping her bra, he removes the fabric with a smile, ignoring Tessa’s sigh and roll of the eyes, loving her intake of air as his thumb swipes over sensitive skin.

He reaches down and lifts her up, his lips level with her heart as he presses them softly against that hallowed ground, marking it once and for all as his own. Setting her on the bed gently, he hooks his fingers beneath the scrap of fabric of her throng, and tugs it downward.

Starting at her foot, he presses kisses on every surface of skin he can find, some light, some wet, some long, some hot. She twitches when he reaches the backside of her knee, laughing and sucking in a breath at the same time. He continues upward along her inner thigh, stopping where the two meet and luxuriating there until climax is reached and her bones are jelly.

"Not fair," she grits out through heaving breaths, biting her lip as her hands scrape through his hair. "You cheated."

He pushes up on his forearms, licking his lips before giving her a rakish smile. “I don’t recall setting any rules, but we can stop, if you like.”

Scott moves barely a millimeter before she tightens her legs around him, not letting him budge. “Hey, you already got me off, so who’s really losing here?”

Glancing up at her, he makes to reply but is distracted by the view of the flat plane of her abdomen, breasts, and hair fanned all around. Instead of replying he dips his head, pressing another kiss against her womb, her stomach, plenty for her breasts, and of course, her neck.

This isn’t sex or making love, this is the sewing of the fabric one’s body, one’s heart and soul, into another. This is a solemn vow between two people, an oath. It’s an all encompassing moment requiring the entirety of their focus.

"Hey Tess?" he whispers as settles his body over hers, running his hands up to where his fingers twine with hers.

"Mmmm?"

He pulls away and nudges her nose with his, waiting until she opens her eyes. “I love you.”

Her smile is enough to reset his heart, making him lose his bearing. “I love you too. So much.”

.::..::..::.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: this needs so much work, but I said I’d have it out yesterday and now it’s today and I have family waiting. Don’t be surprised if you come back later to find that it’s different though. 2. Fun fact, it was unintentional to have the title incorporated into Scott’s rant. I realized it was in there when I went back to edit. I happen to hate it when people do that, but I’m not changing it. Sorry, not sorry. Thanks for reading, Merry Christmas!


	25. 15.3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be you. It’s enough. Always has been.

.::.::.::.::.

Much later that night when both are spent, physically and emotionally, they remain awake talking. Whispering, laughing, touching. Talking about things they've held back for a very long time, things that are only okay to say when two people are of the same frame of mind and spirit.

"Remember that one time when I farted during the serpentine lift?" Tessa asks, stretching out her legs slowly.

"Which time?"

"Hey! I’ve only ever done it twice. I'm talking about the most recent time."

"During practice?"

"Yep," she turns on her side and braces her head on her hand, facing him. "I did it on purpose. You were being an ass, so I fluffed in your face."

"You and your silent but deadly farts..." Scott scoffs at her, flicking her hair away from her face. "Well... remember that one time you thought one of the girls stole your skate guards?"

Tessa pushes up completely; sheet falling away, momentarily distracting Scott. She snaps in his face, drawing his attention upward. "Please tell me you had nothing to do with that."

"It was Charlie's idea, actually, but yeah. All me."

"You know that threw me off for an entire week!" Tessa brings up her pillow and whaps him in the face several times until he brings out his own and they have a five-minute pillow fight. Because it’s totally the most reasonable thing to do.

"Fine, fine! I give up!" Tessa scowls at Scott who has her completely tangled and trapped in the sheets.

"Nope. Gonna make you pay," Scott huffs out as he pulls away the sheet, inch by inch, revealing more and more creamy white thigh. He starts peppering her skin with kisses, her hip, her belly, behind her knee, then creeps high and higher.

Arms still trapped at her sides, Scott grins as she struggles briefly, and then runs his tongue along sensitive skin, tauntingly slow. He can see her bunching up the fabric with her hands, biting her lip to prevent from crying out.

Until she can't hold it in anymore and she's so close to the edge but Scott won't take her over. Not yet. He slides his hands slowly back down her legs and leans back, watching as she struggles to maintain her composure, easily one of the sexiest images he's ever had of her. Chest heaving, hair bed-mussed, face flushed.  _Yes_.

Suddenly, she clamps her ice skater legs around his torso and somehow draws him forward.

"I swear to God if you don't fuck me right now I will give you the WORST case of blue balls you've ever had."

"Considering you've given me blue balls for about twenty years Tess, I don't think it can get any worse," he replies as he wiggles away, just far enough to gain better access. He presses a kiss to her nose and another to her forehead.

"Try me," she grits out as he slides in slowly, pressing forward until she sighs the sigh of one who feels their torture will soon end. Except it doesn’t because he drags it out as long as he possibly can, even when her fingers dig into his ass and she’s biting his neck. Gradually he ramps up until they're both slick with sweat, colors exploding and unable to formulate thoughts.

Succumbing to post-coital lethargy, Scott doesn't wake for another two hours, only to find a very wet and clean smelling Tessa straddling his waist. He tries to throw her off, but she has brothers and knows how to wrestle.

She wiggles her way down his body, wet strands of hair providing delicious contrast to her hot, breathy kisses. The impish look on her face as runs her tongue along the length of him is nearly enough to push him over, but she knows how to draw this out, how to play him. Honestly, if this is the way he dies, it will be so very worth it.

He digs his heels into the mattress as the pressure builds and her gentle grip on his testicles fluctuates. He doesn't bother trying to hold back any exclamations, just begs her repeatedly until she gives in and sheaths herself on top of him, rocking forward tantalizingly, controlling the pace. He pushes up and presses kisses along her sternum and breasts, his hands clutching her hips.

Her hair curtains them both, sprinkling him with a dusting of the scent of her shampoo and soap, so inherently her. When she pushes up and throws her hair over her shoulder he has to update the last sexy image with this one. 

Then she swivels her hips a certain way as she drags her nails down his abdomen and he sees stars. He always thought he was reasonably skilled at this game, especially after he stopped drinking so much, but Tessa gives as good as she gets.

The coil of pressure building in his abdomen finally releases and a colorful display renders him mute as Tessa follows up by bringing herself to climax and shudders all around him, soft and warm. Breaths heavy, lids lowered, Tessa slides off Scott onto her side, grabbing the duvet and covering them both.

"Well... good morning," Scott murmurs, placing a kiss on top of her head. She kisses him back on the shoulder then shuts her eyes.

When Scott's alarm goes off an hour later, he nearly cries. "I will pay someone everything in my bank account to go into work for me today."

Sitting up, Tessa squints at him, her hair an utter mess from drying as she slept. "You're that sore? Aw, suck it up Scott, it's not like you have to skate later or anything."

"Completely missing the point," Scott frowns. "I mean I'd like to spend my day in bed with you, not at the station with a bunch of guys and an overambitious intern who may try to sexually proposition me again."

"Well," Tessa leans down and kisses his forehead, his cheek, his nose, then bites his ear softly, "tell her you're taken, and rest assured, I'll be waiting for you when you get home."

"Mmmm," Scott wraps his arms around her, pressing her against his chest, syncing his breath to hers. "Should we make dinner tonight or go out?"

"I say cook or order in," Tessa runs her nails along his side; over his hip and back up again. "Definitely not going out."

Scott sighs, releasing Tessa as she edges out of bed, tossing him random clothing as she walks around her room. She grabs his dress shirt and pulls it on because she can’t be bothered with actual clothing at the moment. "Get up sleepyhead! I'll make you waffles before work."

"As long as you don't tell me any awful stories or that you think my life would be better off without you in it this time, that sounds good."

Tessa freezes, frowning. "Scott —"

"Please... that was a joke... made in poor taste," Scott sighs, walking over to her and wrapping his arms around her again. "It's just... knowing that I even made you think that? That you had reason to doubt your imperativeness to my existence, it was really tough. Very tough."

"I can't help feeling the way I did," she whispers into his neck. "I just know that I wasn't in a very good place and I don't know if I was thinking all that clearly at the time."

"Doesn't change that it happened," he says softly. "Do you believe me when I say that if something ever happened to you, physical or otherwise, I wouldn't be able to come back from that. I wouldn't even want to."

"Don't say that," Tessa digs her fingers into the flesh on his back. "Don't ever say that. You'd be just fine without me."

"No," Scott slides his hand under her chin, tilting her head upward for better eye contact, "after what happened last year, I know for a fact that we are... we are tied together somehow. I can tell you with all certainty that we're mutually screwed. For life."

"Wow," Tessa sighs, "was that a morbid proposal? Sounded like it."

"Oh, no. But I will propose to you. Not today, not tomorrow, but when we're both good and ready."

"That tends to be how proposals work. Both parties are ready to enter into a lifelong partnership of teamwork, sex, and bickering."

"Then let's keep everything in that order with the first two being interchangeable and the last one close to never."

Tessa leans her head back, smiling at him. "For as long as we both shall live?"

"I do," Scott grins, rubbing his hands on her arms. "Well now that we're verbally contracted for all eternity, I think I'll go take a shower. Make me some breakfast, woman!"

"Wow! And how about never?"

"Dearest, loveliest, fairest of them all, would you be so kind as to start breakfast?"

"Much better," Tessa nods as she heads to the kitchen. When he emerges twenty minutes later, there is a plate of waffles sitting on the bar and a cup of coffee.

"So I was thinking we should have a competition to see who could give the other more orgasms," Scott states blithely, starting in on his waffles.  He looks up at Tessa who is giving him an amused look. "What? I mean... hey, we're both good at that game. I think it could be mutually beneficial."

"Except I can have like... ten in one night, and you'll max out."

“You’ve only had ten max? Child’s play.” Scott takes a large bite of his waffles. "I'll have you know I can go all night if I need to. At least I think I can. I'll drink a red bull first. Maybe two."

"Hey, I'm game if you are," Tessa smirks into her coffee cup. "When uh... when are we supposed to have time for an all-night sex fest?"

"Next weekend? Duh."

"You seem to be forgetting that Joannie is finally getting married next weekend. We'll be in Montréal, remember?"

"Shit," Scott frowns, reaching for another waffle. "Why did they wait so long? And why did they have to wait to get married until AFTER we decided to pledge our undying love and affection for each other?!"

Tessa squints at him, rolling her eyes. "If memory serves correct, the groom's father had a bad car accident the week before the wedding and they postponed. The next available time for the venue was this weekend. And to the second part... yes, I'm pretty sure they could totally predict that you and I would get over ourselves the week before their wedding."

"Fine fine," Scott sighs dramatically. "How about you wear a sheet. Maybe a brown paper bag... Anything that is unattractive that won't make me want to shove you in a closet and have my wicked way with you... That'd be swell."

"A sheet? You want me to wear a sheet to the wedding? And here I was finally able to go shopping this week."

Scott narrows his eyes, eyebrow arched. "I see that maniacal gleam in your eye. You're gonna look super hot, aren't you?"

"Damn straight."

"We're sharing a room, right?"

"Not unless you cancel yours. I get in a day before you, so you'd have to bunk in my room," Tessa finishes her kale smoothie, rinsing the container in the sink.

"Well... only because it's more economical. You know. Want to save money for the house. We should start showering together too. Save on water."

"Aren't you feeling efficient and generous?" Tessa grins at him, pushing up and easing herself on the counter, crossing a long expanse of leg. Swallowing thickly, Scott watches as she does this, losing his train of thought. Then he glances at his plate and remembers that he was eating breakfast because he has a place to be... work. Yes. Work.

Blinking hard, he stands up and walks on the perimeter of the kitchen, far from Tessa, to get to the sink. "Why didn't you eat anything?"

"Fluid diet all week. Got a photo shoot Friday morning then I leave for Montréal to help out with wedding prep."

Scott maintains his distance, shoving his fists in his pockets, "So you will have eaten by the time I see you, right? Because you are not fun to be around when you're hungry."

"I'm pretty sure it's time for you to go to work. Don't forget to cancel your room," she reminds him, hopping off the counter. Scott backs away as she stalks toward him, pulling her hair up in a bun. Bumping against the couch, Scott clamps his eyes shut and turns his head to the side so she can kiss him on the cheek, knowing exactly what she's trying to do.

"Tessa please don't look at me like that, I can't be late," Scott grits out, feeling his resolve weakening. She takes mercy on him, placing a light kiss on his cheek, but not before giving his butt a squeeze.

"Next time I ask you for mercy, don't forget that I'm letting you go right now," Tessa whispers into his ear, kissing his lobe once more.  Scott keeps his eyes shut, trying to think about stinky feet and hard-boiled eggs... anything to keep his mind off Tessa walking around in his dress shirt.

But as he's opening the door to leave, he catches sight of said dress shirt lying crumpled on the ground and well,  _fuck_.

He's only eight minutes late to work and no one is the wiser. Especially not his make-up artist, who has to cover up a low-lying love bite on his neck. Nope. No one suspects a thing.

.::.

Scott is a complete basketcase at work, which becomes apparent when he pours water in his coffee and tries to eat a garnish from a plate of appetizers. He’s at a late business lunch; discussing a short series the network wants to roll out in the fall. All he can do is picture Tessa sitting astride him in bed, coming undone.

“I think Scott would agree that six episodes would be more appropriate than nine,  _right Scott_?” Mike asks, giving Scott a dark look.

“I’ve always been a fan of quality over quantity,” he replies quickly, no idea what they’re talking about. “Mike’s got the right of it though. It’s certainly worth a shot.”

By the time lunch concludes an agreement is made. Scott has no idea what the agreement is, but he shakes hands and smiles like an idiot. Once he and Mike get outside, he receives a stern look from his co-host.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing!”

“Are you high right now? What are you on?”

“No!” Scott backs away as Mike steps closer to him, holding his hands up. “I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night and I’m exhausted.”

Mike screws his eyes up at Scott, reading the truth on his face. “Okay, well. I’m not sure what’s going on… I think I know but… whatever. Make sure you get some rest tonight. I want your A-game tomorrow. “

Just as Scott is waving off Mike, he receives a text from Tessa that is cryptic and perplexing.

_Something’s come up. Won’t be home til late tonight. Don’t wait up._

Well shoot. If that isn’t cause for concern, what he discovers when he turns on the news once he gets home sure is. He watches from a birds-eye view as helicopters fly over what looks to be a camp full of mud huts. The scroll at the bottom reads:

_Terror reigns in South Sudan as guerilla fighters set fire to an internally displaced persons camp._

Oh. That’s not good.

Scott texts Tessa, informing her that he’s seen the news, but she doesn’t reply. He wonders where she is or what she’s doing. He makes a quick dinner and grabs a beer, taking a seat in front of the television as he skips around different channels. The cycle of news shows what’s happening in South Sudan every so often, but not frequently enough for him to see if any new developments have occurred.

He texts a couple analysts at the station, asking if they’ve got any word on what’s going on, but unfortunately, fighting in a small African country doesn’t take precedent over a trip Prince William and Duchess Kate are making to Canada in a week.

When eleven o’clock rolls around, he receives a text from Tessa informing him that she’s on her way home. Unsure if she’s eaten, he figures he can make her a smoothie or something if she’s hungry. He pulls on his sleep pants and a fleece sweater, knowing that Tessa will be too distraught to do anything other than go to bed.

Once she arrives at home, he remains seated, holding his arms open for her as she climbs onto the couch and wraps her arms around him, burrowing her head into his chest. They remain curled around each other for nearly ten minutes until she lets out a yawn. She glances up at him and gives him a sad smile, sighing.

“Henri called this morning right after you left… we have a friend that worked at that camp. He coordinated the delivery of food and water for nearly twenty thousand people.”

“He didn’t make it?”

Tessa shakes her head, pressing her cheek into his chest. “Nope. They think he was trying to rescue a woman who couldn’t walk when the fire…” Tessa clamps her mouth shut, swallowing hard.

“How is the Ugandan government reacting?”

“They’re sending forces to reinforce the border. I can’t tell if it’s to help or hurt the refugees though.”

“Where are the guerillas from?”

Tessa clenches her jaw, twisting her fingers into the hem of his fleece. “I have reason to believe they’re from Central African Republic. That’s where those types of fighters have been… training.”

“How do you know?”

Tessa huffs out a breath, pulling back and bringing a knee up to her chest as she leans against the couch. “When we were escaping last year… right before Michael died, he gave me a notebook that had… a lot of intel in it. I gave it over to a man who works for the American Army. He keeps me in the loop on certain advances and happenings. No idea why. He had great respect for Michael though.”

“You read it!? What were you thinking? Do you know how dangerous that is?” Scott runs his hands through his hair, frowning.

Tessa shrugs, non-committal. “I was stuck in a hotel room for hours, staring at the wall, waiting to leave. All I could think about was that stupid notebook. I cracked.”

“So what now? You just… know things?”

“A lot of the info is old. Damning for some, but old. I do know that Michael predicted what is going on in South Sudan. It is suspected that they’re harboring individuals that the guerilla fighters want dead. It was only a matter of time.”

Scott nods, crossing his arms. “Where were you all day?”

Tessa looks up at him, biting her lip. “I can’t say, actually.”

“What, like you’re some agent of the government now?”

“Hardly. But… I know things… Things that other people want to know. Lots of questioning.”

“Are you going back tomorrow?”

“No. They tapped me dry. I should be good from now on.”

Scott nods, watching her. He clears his throat then stands. “Want a smoothie? I just had cereal for dinner.”

“Sure. I’m going to take a quick shower.” She rises behind him and grabs his hand, pulling him to her. She presses a kiss to his lips, warm and soft.

While she’s showering, Scott tries to wrap his mind around this bizarre turn of events. Tessa’s ability to hide her actual thoughts, or keep a secret is utterly nerve wracking. He absently wonders if he’s ever really going to  _know_  her. Naively, he thought he was an expert on all things Tessa Virtue, but he remembers the way she acted when she came back from Uganda.

That was a completely different woman. One that he couldn’t read at all. She was as foreign to him as a complete stranger and the past few months have slowly made him aware that just because they’re having sex, does not mean he’s any more of an expert than he was two weeks or two months ago.

When she emerges, her hair is still dry, pulled up in a satellite dish above her head. He grins as she takes a seat on a stool, dressed in flannel pants that have skiing penguins and an oversized hoodie. She sips her smoothie, sighing.

“This is good, what’d you put in it?”

“Chocolate and coconut.”

She scowls at him, stopping mid-sip. “You didn’t.”

“No, it does have coconut almond milk in it though,” Scott replies as he lists off the other ingredients. “I canceled my room for next weekend, by the way. It’s going to be good to see everyone.”

Nodding, Tessa takes another sip. “Yeah. I haven’t seen most everyone since New Years. Not doing Stars on Ice this year was rough.”

“It’s not like either of us had the time to prep a program though. Maybe we could do another Christmas show?”

“That’s a good idea. We should talk to Jeff about it next weekend. Joannie sent me an email this morning about all the crazy stuff we’re doing. It’ll be a party for about three days.”

“Not exactly Joannie’s style.”

“Yeah, well. It’s like a reunion, getting everyone back together. I think she’s almost excited to see everyone as she is about getting married.”

“Well, they do live together. The only difference will be the ring on her finger and the last name.”

Tessa drains her glass and rises. “Are you just taking a shuttle to the hotel once you arrive?”

“Yeah. I’m leaving directly after my Saturday morning segment. I’ll be there in time to thrash Chiddy in a rematch of our last table tennis tournament and distract you from getting ready.”

Smirking, Tessa leads them back to the couch, easing down on her side. Scott wants her closer, but knows she sat over there on purpose. “Good luck finding me. I’m doing approximately fifty things upon arrival.”

“Are you an unofficial bridesmaid again?”

“Seems to be my role nowadays.” She places her legs in his lap, covering a yawn with her hand. “I think we should keep this to ourselves until we tell our families.”

“Agreed.” Scott slides his hand beneath the hem of her pajama bottoms, running his hand along her ankle and calf. “I still want a sex-fest though.”

“Deal.” Tessa gives him a droopy smile. “I need to brush my teeth. Why is the bathroom so far?”

Scott grins as he stands, throwing her over his shoulder as they commence teeth brushing and readying for bed. Oddly enough they return to the couch, because it’s Saturday night and that’s where they sleep. Most of Scott’s upper body fills the corner, while Tessa’s head rests on a pillow and his chest, pointing the opposite way. He falls asleep with her curled against his arm, clutching it tightly.

.::.::.::.

After hours of poor sleep, Tessa wakes early and stretches. She yawns, watching Scott as he sleeps. His head is burrowed against the couch, his arm tucked beneath his head. It's only 430, far too early to bother him with stupid things like her thoughts and bad dreams.

She dresses for the gym and spends an hour and half working out her frustrations, hoping to reach some type of clarity. She knows that she needs to talk with Scott, but can't figure out how to do it yet. Maybe she'll just start talking and something sensible will come out.

Once she gets back she takes a shower and then pulls on an old hockey jersey. She goes to the kitchen and stares forlornly at a beautiful muffin, hiding it in a cabinet, then chugs a glass of water instead. Silently she curses the fashion industry’s pressure on waif-like models, and then brushes her teeth. She walks around the apartment, going stir crazy, finally deeming 630 a good time to wake Scott.

Which she does ever so carefully and pleasantly. He's in mostly the same position as before, except more on his side, which works well because she eases onto the couch next to him, front to front. He's completely asleep, blowing puffs of air that run over the top of her head as she presses her nose into the hollow at his throat. 

Slowly, she eases her hand beneath his shirt, running her nails along his back, each sweep passing more and more territory. Pressing her lips into his neck, she nips lightly at the skin and then moves to new area. Other parts of his body wake before he does, pressing prominently into her abdomen as her strokes get lower, changing in pattern and touch.

She feels his intake of breath; that slow wakefulness coupled with realization as he places his hand along her back, pressing delicately. Her hand slips beneath his waistband, trailing his buttocks around to his hip, brushing over the hair at his center. His fingers trace along her spine, raking up the hem of her jersey and discovering she isn’t wearing underwear.

A moan escapes him as she sucks and bites at his flesh, his grip tightening along her thigh as she pushes down his waistband, freeing him just enough. He hikes her leg up over his hip, pressing a kiss onto the top of her head but averse to actual lip contact this early. Morning breath will always be a quirk of his.

In a swift movement he curls his hand beneath her and swings to where she is pressed beneath him on the couch, cradled against her pelvis. The sight of Tessa in her own hockey jersey with damp hair and lust-filled bright green eyes is going to torment him for the rest of the day. He leans down and presses his lips against her forehead gently, reverently, then eases himself forward with agonizing slowness.

They're quiet the entire time and it's strange and she doesn't quite feel that he's fully awake yet, like maybe he thinks he's dreaming this. But he pulls away and stops suddenly, just when she's starting to climb and it makes her blink hard, trying to clear the haze. His eyes are dark and his brow is furrowed in concern more than pleasure and she doesn't want that to be the look that brings her to ecstasy. She reaches up and presses her hand to his thundering heart, placing a kiss beneath his jaw, easing back with her eyes wide open. He stares back, searching her eyes, slowly easing into her again.

She brings her leg up higher, desperate for him to continue. When he won't take the hint, she slides her hands down between them to finish the job, but he practically growls at her, pulling her hand away and pressing it above her head as finally, he continues until they are both breathless and spent.

He collapses; softening inside her, hot breath heavy between her and the couch. His eyelashes flutter against her neck as she slides her heel along the back of his leg, tangled together.  His grip loosens against her hand as he brings it down, pressing a kiss into her palm.

After a couple minutes, she slides her hands beneath his shirt again and continues to trace his vertebrae. Finally, she figures out what she wants to say.

"I have a confession to make."

"Mmmm," he rumbles against her chest, where his head is resting.

"I didn't actually plan on sleeping with you Friday night." He tenses beneath her, holding his breath. "I was still... I  _am_  still sorting through things. But don't freak out. I feel you freaking out. Stop freaking out. 

"How am I not supposed to freak out?" Scott asks as he pulls out and away, pulling his pants up then tugging the hem of her jersey down. "What do you mean, you're still  _sorting through things?_ "

"That's what I mean," Tessa sits up, trying to ignore the scent of sex and sweat as he fixes her with a hard look. "Stop looking at me like that. I wanted to be honest with you, but I can't explain if you're going to shut me out."

He lets out a breath and then clenches his jaw. He places his hands in his lap, giving her an inscrutable look. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

"Scott —"

"You said you love me. Is that true?"

“Yes."

"You said you wanted to be with me. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Then what's the problem?" He voice drops and she finally catches the slightest hint of anxiety coming from him and she hates it. But she also needs to tell him why she did it.

"Friday... initially I just wanted us to lay the ground work. I still had reservations about placing all my... all my trust in you, but I wanted to see if we still had the same views on things before pushing ahead."

Scott nods, jaw still clenched. She pushes ahead, trying to keep calm. "You need to understand something, Scott... Last year, I -" She looks down, fiddles with her sleeve. "I worked very, very hard to push you out of my heart. You… you  _broke_  me.  And then everything happened... and when I got back it was really hard to be around you. Slowly, especially over the past couple of months, my head started to forgive you, I started to trust you again, but my heart… mentally I know I love you, but I don’t…” she swallows hard, looking down so she doesn’t have to see his face. “I don’t fully feel it yet.”

 “Then why’d you say it? Why’d sleep with me?” his voice is quiet, cracking slightly.

“I don’t think you realize how you look at me sometimes,” she glances at him, giving a soft smile. “Sometimes you make me forget how to breathe. Like… the whole room could be on fire and you’d still be staring at me.”

“That’s because I feel like that, Tessa,” he replies. “I just… this is hard. I don’t fully get what you’re trying to say. The past few weeks… all that thinking? You didn’t make a decision?”

“Not really. I committed myself to the idea of an us, a future with you, will the full expectation that I’ll eventually have those feelings because I always do… I always did.”

He remains quiet, staring at the floor. He hasn’t shut down, but she knows he’s hurt.

“Love isn't everything, Scott. There is respect and devotion and trust. When we got back from dinner, you were looking at me like that and I asked myself,  _Why do I need to have it all figured out? Why can't I just let go, for once?_  So I did.” She sighs, scooting forward and reaching out. “Most people don’t have it all figured out when they start dating. I realized that and wondered why I had to keep pushing it off. I don’t see why we can’t be together at the same time.”

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I'm committed to this, but I'm probably not as far along to the overall idea of it as you. I'm still asking for your patience, because sometimes... sometimes I'm not as sure of you as I think I ought to be."

"Then what do I need to do to prove it to you?" his voice cracks again and she tugs at his hand, twining their fingers.

"Be you. It’s enough. Always has been,” she whispers solemnly. “I just need you to be aware that I'm adjusting to this and that I don't want things to get super serious before the foundation is there. I want us to take our time. I want us to make this about us and not everyone else and what they want."

"And what do you want?' he asks softly, rubbing his thumb over hers.

"A permanent life partnership full of teamwork, sex, and bickering," she smirks at him, trying to lighten things up. He gives her a soft smile, but his eyes are solemn.

"I want that too, you know I do," his voice is hoarse now and she just wants to get that look off his face. She stands and climbs into his lap. She wraps her arms around him as he burrows his head into her neck, eyes shut tight.

“I don’t think we should have sex anymore…” Scott says. “Not until.. not until you feel the same way.”

This surprises Tessa, knowing how much he enjoys sex. She pulls away and looks at him, realizing that it means a lot more to him than he lets on. “Fair enough. If that’s what you want.”

“It doesn’t… it won’t feel right. I’ll always be wondering if you’re just pretending and I don’t want that.”

“I’d never pretend with you,” Tessa says sharply. “Ever.”

“Then don’t tell me you love me if you don’t.”

“But I do. Just not in the way I need to.” She tilts her head to the side watching him as he thinks.

He exhales, looking up at her with a resolute look. “Then wait. I don’t want you to say it unless you mean it. All of you. Your whole heart. That’s what I want.”

She nods at the seriousness in his words, the gritty tone of his voice, his grip tight on her hips. He reaches up and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and presses his lips against her mouth, sealing their promise. When he pulls away, he lets out a shaky breath.

“You trust me, right? I’m going to figure this out, Scott,” she keeps her arms wrapped around him, searching his eyes. “Just be patient.”

“Patient,” he nods, sincere. “I can do that.”

They remain in their positions watching each other an extended period, almost like a staring contest. Scott’s phone alarm goes off, breaks the moment.

He rises with Tessa still wrapped around his waist, picks up his phone, then carries her down the hall and deposits her in her bathroom so she can shower.

“So gallant.”

Scott smiles at her, pressing a chaste kiss on her cheek. “I do my best.”

She nods, smiling at him as he walks away. Being honest with him was easily one of the hardest things she’s had to do in a very long time. She only hopes that it was worth it.

Climbing in the shower, she rinses off quickly, wanting to get out in time to make him breakfast. Which is strange. Because she really sucks at cooking most things. Baking? Sure. Stove? Not so much.

Whatever. She dresses quickly and starts making her Dad’s blueberry pancakes. Her hands are still shaking, which indicates that clearly, telling Scott the truth more terrifying than she anticipated. She bets he’s freaking out in the shower right now and she’s an idiot.

What was she supposed to do? She spent nearly a month thinking about him.  _Them_. And it was getting her nowhere. Her friend Santi was the one who finally made her see things from a different light. Which was similar to what she said earlier: why does she have to it all figured out just to date him?

Santi, so wholly removed from all the crazy antics that have been the last ten years of her life, has been a great sounding board for her. Also a voice of reason when she lost all of hers. When Henri was here, she was a mess. That entire week was awful, and Scott just sat there and bore it with good faith.

And Henri was great. More than great. He’d figured it was a lost cause when Scott brought Aimée out last fall. That gesture went above and beyond the bounds of friendship, because it wants the ultimate good for the recipient, no matter the cost to the giver.

In turn, she told Henri that no matter where he ended up, she would always believe that Victoria was the one for him. Maybe it was her inner matchmaker, maybe it was the truth. She did know that those two were meant for each other.

Lost in her thoughts, she feels a pair of hands reach around her and a kiss on her neck. She turns as Scott reaches around and plucks a couple blueberries from the basket and tosses them in his mouth. While she’s making his pancakes, he makes her a smoothie and when they’re finished, she hands him a plate and he hands her a glass, smiling at her warmly.

He tells her about the lunch he had yesterday which he barely recalls, she tells him about the weird case they’re studying that week. He turns on the news as she puts on a pot of coffee and they continue on as they have been. The only change is that when he leaves for work, he walks up and kisses her on the lips as she sits at the table, reading a dense text.

She hopes against hope that they’ll be okay, that he’ll trust her enough to get where she needs to be.

.::.

For as little French as he can speak, Scott loves Montreal. However, it never occurred to him how hard it would be, not acting completely over the moon for Tessa when they’re around others. When he arrives at the hotel, tired and in need of a shower, he finds her outside around the pool sitting with fifteen of their closest friends, smiling and laughing and making his heart melt. That’s her. His person.

Tessa’s back is to him, but somehow she always knows when he’s near. She turns and looks straight at him, beaming brightly, causing him to falter. He catches himself just in time before he falls into the pool, but not before bumping into Jeff who is walking by with several drinks. Jeff wobbles, Scott reaches out, catches air and falls in seemingly slow motion into the pool. Just before contact he realizes that maybe he was being far too optimistic about being able to function normally around Tessa.

Twenty minutes later, he’s toweling off in their room and Tessa is still laughing.

“I mean… the look on your face?” Tessa is near tears at this point, mimicking him. “It was like it was from a cartoon. Like old school Bugs Bunny, Wild E Coyote stuff. I’m never going to be able to forget — whelp!” Scott picks her up and body slams her on the bed, sprawling across her in such a way that movement is impossible. He starts tickling her slowly, causing a maniacal laugh to emerge.

She doesn’t fight clean though, because she pulls him into a headlock, then pulls her leg up and around his torso to where he’s trapped between her legs, arms pinned at his side. They both pause for a moment, breathing heavy, smiling like fools. He kisses her thigh, she swaps his arm.

“How was your flight?”

“Quick. But I had a screaming child sitting next to me. It made my balls contract up into my body. I think I still have a year left before I’m fully ready to start procreating.”

“Noted.” Tessa grins. “I see you brought the suit you wore to the awards dinner. Good choice.”

“You said I looked handsome in it. You even had that shy smile. I figure I can’t go wrong tonight.”

“I did not!”

“You thought I looked hot. Don’t deny it,” Scott wiggles an arm loose, wrapping it around one of her legs and squeezing lightly. “How was today? When we talked this morning you seemed a bit irritated.”

“Yeah, one of Joannie’s bridesmaids is…” Tessa frowns. “She is not a nice person. I think she’s one of the groom’s step sisters?”

“Like… evil ugly stepsister from Cinderella?” Scott stretches as Tessa eases her grip on him, lying flat on the bed.

“Exactly like that.” Tessa rises and walks over to the window, looking down. “This is a great hotel though. I’m glad they chose this for the reception. It’ll make things a lot easier. Everything is already set up. So basically we just have to get ready and make our way to the church. Afterward? It’ll be a class reunion from start to finish.”

Scott smiles as Tessa grabs her shower bag and ducks into the bathroom. “I’m going to be in here for easily thirty minutes. Do you need anything?”

“No. Just going to catnap. Wake me when I need to get dressed?”

“Sure,” Tessa comes out and walks over to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Sorry. Forgot to say ‘hi’ earlier.”

Scott reaches up and pulls her back to him, turning a hello kiss into a ten-minute make-out session. “Scott! I’ve gotta get ready. Let me goooooooo.”

“But you taste nice. I can’t.”

“You can thank the strawberry daiquiri I was drinking earlier,” Tessa pulls away, brushing her lips against the top of his head. “Take a nap. I’ll wake you in a little bit.”

When Scott wakes again, it’s to a cool finger pressing along his brow. She always used to wake him up that way when they were younger, a gentle easing into wakefulness. As his eyes adjust, he reaches out and grabs her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “You smell good. Is it time?”

“Yep. You got a text from Andrew… and I think Bryce is here? Which is random, but there’s that.”

Scott responds to a few people asking his whereabouts and what they’re going to do after the reception that night. He responds that going out seems the most likely option, but then he catches a glimpse of Tessa curling her hair and wonders how she’d feel about him continuing the festivities late into the night.

“Tess? If the guys want to go out after, you gonna have a problem with that?”

She shrugs, setting down the curling iron. “I kind of figured you would. You haven’t seen these guys in months. Just be safe!”

He smiles, replying to the group text about the possible locations they could migrate to afterward. Scott proceeds to get ready; dancing around the room to the 80s mix Tessa has blaring. He stops in his tracks when she comes out from the bathroom, fixated on searching for her shoes.

Yep, she did it. She got a dress that makes her look super hot. Damnit. All thoughts of going out later quickly vanish as she kneels on the floor, digging through her bag and searching for her shoes. Finding them, she sits up, smiling in victory. Her smile slides off her face when she glances at Scott.

“What?” She grows concerned because he just standing there, speechless, eyes scanning her body. “You don’t like the dress?”

Eyes dark and dazed, Scott shakes and nods his head at the same time, basically moving his head in a full circle like an idiot. Tessa’s head falls to the side lip quirked. “You okay there? Do you need some water?”

Swallowing thickly, Scott clenches his fists as she takes a seat, sliding each heel on carefully. She stands and turns, revealing an expanse of smooth back that his fingers itch to touch.

“Can you zip me up?”

Scott walks forward and reaches out, tracing a finger along her spine, grinning at the gooseflesh that trails behind as he slowly pulls the zipper up to it’s closure. He presses a kiss to her shoulder, at the jut of bone at the base of her neck, and then down the opposite side. When he moves around to her front, he finds that his hands can touch much more skin than he was expecting, and enjoys eliciting every single gasp and sharp breath he can get from her.

Somehow, they pull themselves away from each other and put themselves to rights, then exit the room feeling far too aroused for their own good.

“I wish you hadn’t done that,” Tessa says quietly as they board the elevator. She turns and reaches up, wiping faint evidence of lipstick on his neck. “Now I’m all muddled. I need to focus, not be distracted.”

“Welcome to my life. I just won’t look at you much throughout the night. Maybe that’ll work.”

The door opens and Tessa walks out before him, turning with a knowing smile on her face. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

It does work, for the most part. The ceremony goes smoothly and is easily one of the finest he’s been to. Joannie actually glows, which makes it seem all the better, giving Scott confidence that she’s truly happy. He sits beside Tessa throughout the ceremony, comfortable and glad to be with friends.

Cocktail hour is fun, giving him the opportunity to bounce around per usual and see old friends. Occasionally he glances around for Tessa, once or twice walking over to see if she needs a refill or to subtly brush his thumb along the exposed skin on her back. They all settle at dinner and Scott is glad to find that Joannie placed him at the same table as Tessa. No couples are sitting side by side, which makes things more interesting and inclusive.

And then the music starts and all Scott knows is that he hasn’t danced so hard or so long in years. Fast songs, slow songs, super cheesy throwback songs, he dances them all, Tessa by his side the whole time. He dances a slow song with Kaitlyn, another with Joannie, a couple with various other women, but he saves the last slow dance for Tessa.

At this point, everyone is hot, sweaty, and moderately buzzed. He knows that if he looks to long at her or holds her too close, no one will think twice, because he often does dance with her like this if they let themselves. Every inch of them is touching practically, movements fluid and graceful, transitioning around the dance floor with ease.

“This is nice,” Tessa hums into his neck, her eyes closed. It’s late and he knows she’s exhausted. Scott agrees softly, pressing a kiss to her temple as he releases her slowly for a spin, bringing her back in just as tightly. She smiles into his neck, her hand sliding along the fabric of his dress shirt, damp with sweat.

“I think I could do this forever,” Scott admits as he catches a glimpse of Chiddy dancing with his girlfriend, both looking equally tired. “I  _want_  to do this forever, actually.”

“Good. Me too,” she mumbles quietly. “Joannie looks so happy. I’m glad for her.”

“Remember when she said she was engaged? You practically had an existential crises.”

“I think I did, actually,” Tessa huffs. “Last year pretty much sucked for me. There were only a few highlights, but even those aren’t so great in the grand scheme of things.”

“What were the highlights?” Scott replies as he twists her out, then pulls her back in.

“All the work I did in Uganda. My boys. Sister Rosa. Lifelong friendships. Overcoming adversity.”

She rattles them off in a manner that makes him feel like she thinks back on that time frequently. He would too, if he were trying to see the good in things. “Have you spoken with Henri again? How is everything going?”

“Still a hostile environment. But the consensus is that another attack will be unlikely in the near future. Hopefully.” She sighs slowly. “Isaiah broke his wrist. Tuba was chasing him around at school and he tripped and fell. He seems pretty excited by the cast though.”

“All the cool kids break their wrist at some point,” Scott smirks, thinking back on when he broke his own wrist.

The songs ends and they pull apart, preparing to head outside as the bride and groom bid farewell to the party. Sparklers and bubbles are given out to all the guests, everyone standing along the perimeter to the getaway car. Finally Joannie and her husband emerge, still glowing, still laughing. Scott smiles and claps, so happy for them both.

As they return inside to collect their belongings, Scott has all but forgotten about going out afterward. Chiddy walks up with Andrew and a couple others, all of whom look tired.

“Yo, so I was thinking of passing on going out tonight. How about brunch instead?” Chiddy asks as Andrew nods.

“I was thinking the exact same thing,” Scott replies, watching as Tessa takes a seat beside Kaitlyn, the two women practically melting together in sleepiness. “I’d love to get brunch tomorrow. How about we meet up down here at… ten? That work?”

The other two nod just as Jeff walks up. “Brunch tomorrow, right? I think we’re all getting too old for this.”

“You my friend, are a hundred percent correct,” Scott replies, shaking his hand. “Have a good time?”

“Me? Sure. I see you had a great time too,” Jeff states cryptically. “I mean… I’d want to go to bed too if I knew I wasn’t going to be alone tonight.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Scott narrows his eyes, trying to look anywhere but at Tessa.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. Just uh… just be careful, this time around. That’s all.”

Scott doesn’t reply, watching as Jeff gives him a stiff smile that borders on serious. Jeff clears his throat after a moment, glancing once at Tessa who’s walking up to hug Jeff goodnight.

“Tomorrow we’ll talk about days to meet up for choreo? Winter show or bust!”

“Definitely,” Tessa replies, winking at Scott. “Sleep well. See you in the morning.”

She waves off Jeff and turns back to Scott, prepared to wish him a good night. “What time do you think you’ll be back?”

“Actually, we’re not going out. Getting to old and everything. We’re all getting brunch in the morning instead,” Scott states as Tessa collects her clutch and walks beside him through the lobby and to the elevators.

“Are you sure? I mean… seriously, if you want to go out, it’s not a big deal. It’s been forever since we’ve seen everyone.”

Scott smiles at the concern on her features. “I can assure you, most everyone has probably already gone to bed. The thought of going out right now does not sound appealing at all. Especially when I have you most likely reading a book and sipping your tea before bed. I’m tired and sleepy and just want to rest.”

She narrows her eyes at him, exiting the elevator as they walk quietly down the hallway to their room. Once they get inside, Scott unzips her dress, doing his best not to touch her. This is a mild form of torture that he’s partaking in, but he refuses to go back on his word. He catches the end of sportscenter as Tessa washes her face and prepares for bed, emerging with another set of equally silly pajamas as before.

“Are those polar bears with parachutes?” Scott stares at her pants as he takes off his shoes.

“Yup. There are turtles too… somewhere,” Tessa is bent over, peering at her bottoms. “But they’re super soft. Feel.”

“Nope. Not touching those pants because I know what’s underneath those pants and they would not stay on very long if I started feeling them and you.”

“Wow. Okay. Fair enough,” Tessa brushes her teeth as Scott takes a quick rinse off shower. He pulls on his sleep pants, catching Tessa watching him when he looks at his reflection.

Sure enough, when he finishes brushing his teeth, Tessa is hunkered down on her side of the bed, reading a book, lids heavy as she appears to be drifting off. He climbs into bed beside her and reaches over, pulling the book away and pressing a closed mouth kiss to her lips.

“Sleep. It’s a great idea,” he whispers as he shuts off the light and sets the book on the nightstand. Within minutes, he’s asleep, the soft sounds of Tessa's breathing lulling him to sleep.

.::.::.

The next couple weeks pass with ease. They roll into September with things carrying on as usual. So much so that it causes Scott some concern after they’ve left dinner with the Gadget couple. They’re getting gelato at their favorite place, Tessa’s one stop splurge shop.

“Do you think it’s weird that the only thing that’s really changed between us is that I sleep in your bed and ‘accidentally’ walk in on you when you’re in the shower?”

“I don’t know,” Tessa replies, her focus on selecting something that will mesh with coconut crunch. “I mean… you’re the one that’s been in super long term relationships. We live together, we eat together, we argue over what TV to watch, we clean, we try to pretend we don’t want to rip off each other’s clothing… I mean… it’s basically the same as it has been.”

“You mean you wanted to rip off my clothing before six weeks ago?”

“Well…. I mean…” Tessa fumbles for a moment, straightening as she glances at him. “Yeah, sometimes. You always walked around with a towel wrapped around your waist in the mornings letting everything ‘airdry’. It got distracting on occasion.”

“Oh and you think your Saturday morning yoga wasn’t distracting? What about dance on Thursdays?”

“Hey, no one forced you to be present at either of those.”

“But it’s so fun to watch you when you’re in the zone. You get this super intense look and then you glow afterwards and you —“

“Scott,” Tessa smiles at him, nodding at the patient teenager behind the counter, “I think you should probably place your order.”

Scott does as she suggests, leaving her to receive her new creation. It’s as delicious as she hoped, earning a near orgasmic moan when she sinks into the first bite. Scott rolls his eyes appropriately, shaking his head as he receives his cup. They exit the shop and stroll slowly down the street, laughing at how dumb Mike Schulte was acting earlier that night.

“He must really like her,” Tessa notes as she licks the back of her spoon. “I mean… how often is that man rendered speechless?”

“Never.”

“Exactly!” Tessa grins at him, arching her eyebrows at the amused look on his face. “What?”

“What?”

“I asked you first. Why are you looking at me like that?”

He smiles again, this time smaller and more careful. “I think we’re doing everything right. And really, I’m glad that not much has changed between us.”

“Except for your sleeping location.”

“Well… I’m really glad that part changed. Very glad.”

She glances at him beneath her lashes, lips quirked. Their sleeping arrangements are quite the improvement over what they once were. She still wears stupid pajama bottoms and he still wakes up shivering and lacking bedding. They often fall asleep together, occasionally curled into one another. More often than not, she’s reading a book and he’s still checking late night game stats on his phone, partially for work.

Sometimes she spends her night trying to make him forget everything he just learned, kissing him between whispered secrets and billowed sheets, twining her fingers with his. Often he snatches her book away and tugs her down onto the mattress, coming up with more and more creative ways to express himself without necessarily having sex. If anything, the lack of sex has made them more intimate and inventive.

Tessa reaches out and slides her hand into the crook of his arm, savoring the way he places a hand over hers. Sometimes when she wakes up early in the morning and she’s curled into herself, she feels his arm or his chest beside her and breathes in slowly. Occasionally he’s wrapped around her as well and she wonders if it’s because she puts off so much body heat. In repose, his face slack and peaceful, she traces his features with her finger and silently thanks Scott for trusting himself with her.

And she thinks, if he can do it, why can’t she?

Even now, as she unlocks the door and they enter the apartment, she wonders what else needs to happen for her to finally let go. There’s still that sliver of doubt in her chest and until it’s gone, she’s holding true to her word. He still says he loves her, whispers it before bed, before he leaves for work, into the phone, in every single look.

But she still can’t say it back. She’s not sure who she’s hurting more, her or him.

.::.

Finally, Scott brings Norma Jean to Toronto. It does not go well.

“Oh no! What’s wrong with Norma Jean?” Tessa asks as Scott practically carries his dog inside like a baby.

“Turns out, sweet little Norma Jean gets carsick if she’s in a vehicle over an hour.”

“Oh nooooo,” Tessa frowns, wrapping up the poor dog in a towel. “Do you need me to help you clean your truck?”

“No, I stopped on the way here. I feel gross though. I’m gonna hop in the shower.”

Tessa keeps Norma Jean beside her on the couch, petting her as she burrows her head. Shortly after, Tiny Cat emerges from the back and jumps on the couch, intent on loving his human. And then he discovers the ugliest cat he’s ever seen.

There is much barking and growling and hissing and scratching.

By the time Scott emerges, Tiny Cat has barred himself in the closet and refuses to emerge.

“Well… that went over well,” Scott frowns, plopping down on the couch. “What do we do?”

“The cat can suck it up,” Tessa sighs, slapping Scott’s hand casually. “So uh… I haven’t slept in three days.”

Scott pushes off from the back of the couch, peering at her carefully. Yup. Dark circles under her eyes, wan features. “Why?”

“Well… Scotty. It’s… it’s been a year,” she replies softly. It started last weekend… but it’s gotten worse. I skipped my afternoon classes the other day because I was such a mess.”

Scott frowns. He actually knew this, he was thinking about it coming down, but then Norma Jean started yakking all over his truck and he forgot. Now he feels like a tool.

“Anyway, my therapist gave me some ambien a while ago. I only took it once because I did some weird stuff last time I took it.”

“Like what?” Scott slides over, pulling Tessa’s hand up and kissing her palm.

“I guess I felt it was necessary to stack all my chairs and roll up all my rugs? And then empty all my cabinets.”

 

“Was that in November? That day when we were at the rink and you were super punchdrunk?”

“Around then, yeah.”

“So what are you saying, do you want to take some?”

“No. I’m saying this freaking sucks and I can’t stop having nightmares and I just want it to stop.” Tessa drops her head against the couch, letting out a haggard breath.

“I think you should take the medicine. I’ll keep an eye on you. Let’s see if you can’t get some sleep.”

Fifteen minutes later, he has a sick dog resting on her bed, and Tessa curled up on the couch. The weather is awful outside, dark and stormy. He pulls a blanket over Tessa and waits for her to finally give in.

Except she doesn’t. She stands and goes to the kitchen and starts baking cookies. At first he didn’t think anything of it. Until he realized she was not using the correct ingredients whatsoever. Not only that, but she put them in the oven which wasn’t even on. Cool. Cool. No big deal.

Then she looks up at him gives him a long-suffering sigh and pads to her room. She sleeps for a solid six hours, which is all he could ask for really. He decides to wait until she’s in better spirits before relaying her Ambien adventures. They spend the rest of the weekend at home, relaxing, mostly quiet. He listens when she talks, but it’s not often and mostly about Sister Rosa. She talks with her mom and Aimée as well, then talks with Tuba and Isaiah Sunday morning. It helps greatly, but she still can muster the motivation to put on a brave face.

By the time he leaves Sunday night, Norma Jean has taken up post in Tessa’s bed, curled into the crook behind her legs, while Tiny Cat rests at her front, little face pressed into Tessa’s neck. He snaps a picture because it makes his heart melt. He kisses them all goodbye, and then begrudgingly takes his leave.

.::.

Two weeks later, they’re grocery shopping. Tessa hates grocery shopping, but Scott bribed her with free coffee and an amazing dinner. Fair trade. They’re in the middle of looking at some produce when it finally,  _finally_  clears.

She’s watching Scott, somewhat patiently, as he looks over his shopping list. He’s fretting over what size sweet potatoes to get when she thinks to herself that she loves him so much.

Loves him in a way that she loves his crazy quirks like penchant for meticulous produce selection and desire to have his clothes folded a certain way. She loves the way he always kisses her goodbye when he leaves for work in the morning, sliding his hand against her back and pressing his lips against hers once, twice, three times.

“For good measure,” he almost always whispers.

But mostly, she loves who he is, how he cares for his family, the love he has for his community. She loves him. Not just knows it. But  _feels_ it.

“Hey Scott,” she pushes up on her toes, whispering into his ear. “I love you.”

Absorbed by his task, he replies absently, “I love you too.”

She lowers to the ground, waiting for her words to hit him. Ten seconds later, he’s facing her, sweet potatoes forgotten. “You sure?”

“Whole-heartedly,” Tessa nods. They leave the store abruptly, half-full basket sitting all alone. Their bodies are practically vibrating by the time they reach the elevators at her building, but just before the door closes, a dad enters with three kids. One of them decides to press every single button on the elevator panel.

Scott groans, Tessa smirks. 16 floors later he practically rips the doors open he’s so antsy. “I don’t think you understand how badly I need you right now.”

“Based on your walk, I’m going to assume pretty bad,” Tessa grins as Scott pulls out the keys, his hands shaking so much he can barely unlock the door. Sliding the keys out from his grasp, Tessa kisses him softly then slides the key into the lock.

Before the door slams shut he has her pressed against the wall, kissing her fiercely. They shed their jackets rapidly and his shirt gets tossed somewhere. She unbuckles his belt, he hikes up her dress, hands and lips everywhere all at once.  He presses kisses to her throat and she tugs at his hair.

“I need… this off you,” he mutters semi-coherently, trying to tug her dress over her head. They get it off and he unhooks her bra quickly, fingers skittering along her ribcage and her breasts, twisting carefully before replacing them with his mouth. He grabs her leg and hikes it up to his waist, pressing against her, sliding his fingers down as she moans.

Everything is going so quickly but not fast enough. She can barely get a handle on him before he finally picks her up and thrusts inside her with one fluid motion, then sets a semi-controlled pace. He circles his thumb against sensitive tissue, running his tongue along her upper lip before biting her lower. She wonders if he’s been thinking about this for a while, but loses that train of thought when her body starts to quiver and she comes undone. He follows soon after, then ungracefully slides to the floor, out of breath and slick.

By Sunday night they've had sex in every room, on every possible surface, and against multiple walls. Shower sex was banned because Scott had a bad experience once, 'I don't want to talk about it.' Otherwise, they're doing quite well for themselves. They have a fantastic discussion over sushi about how she finally came around, making Scott feel much more confident in their relationship.

As Tessa is getting ready to leave for dance, Scott's packing his bag to return home.

“What are you thinking about?” Tessa asks from his doorway, nodding at his half-packed duffle.

“About how most of my stuff is here, except for the essentials for what I need back home.”

“Something wrong with that?”

“Nah. Just an observation really. It’s not like I need twenty ties and dress shirts when I work at the fire station.”

“I feel like that would be unhelpful and somewhat dangerous. Unless you have fire-retardant ones…”

Scott grins as he shoves the last couple items in his bag, not bothering with folding. “Best dressed fireman calendar? Has potential.”

Tessa swings her arms around his neck as he rests his hands at her hips, smiling at each other like idiots. “As long as you’re still happy doing what you do, then keep on doing it.”

“I am… I do still enjoy it,” Scott replies, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But what do you think about taking the coaching seminar with Skate Canada? It starts after we get back from Uganda. I’m thinking I might start to transition to coaching next year.”

Tessa bites her lip in contemplation, mentally reviewing her calendar. “I’ll have to look at the dates, but I’m down. I’ve always wanted to coach with you.”

“Excellent,” Scott pulls away slowly, squeezing her hand. “Alright, what’s the game plan next weekend for Jordan’s wedding? You’re staying at your parents’ house because you need to provide support for Jordan. Right?”

“Yes. Even though they already had a small ceremony in Australia, the big one is here, which has been  _such a joy_  for my mom to plan.”

“Oh I bet,” Scott slaps his thigh for Norma Jean, rubbing her head affectionately. “You be good for T, okay? Don’t eat her nice slippers, you understand?”

“Eh… she decimated the other pair. I just keep my closet shut now.” She grabs her duffle bag as well and puts Norma Jean in her crate, then follows Scott downstairs. They stop in the lobby and hug briefly before parting.

“Wait, one thing,” Scott calls out, jogging back over to Tessa. “How are we playing things next weekend? Together or not?”

“Wait until after Jordan has left for their honeymoon, then we can spill the beans. It would be pretty rude to drop the news when the focus should be on her.”

“Agreed. Love you.”

Tessa rolls her eyes at him as he stops, waiting for her reply. “I love you too.”

.::.

In the end, all the anxiety they built up over relaying the existence of their relationship to their families was for naught. Mainly because they accidentally expose it to Tessa’s mother, which means everyone knows within a few hours.

The day before the wedding Tessa is sitting at outside with her mom, aunt, and two of Jordan’s many bridesmaids, fixing some ill-arranged floral centerpieces. Scott arrives with Casey, helping unload some equipment. He smiles and winks at her then continues on as normal, no big deal.

Nearly half an hour later, he drops by the table to survey the centerpieces, offer his  _excellent_  and unnecessary advice regarding flower placement, much to the dismay of one bridesmaid and delight of another. Then he stops by Tessa’s chair and bumps her shoulder.

“How was your night yesterday?”

“Long. Fun. Full of liquor in penis shaped bottles. Super classy. I have no idea how I got up this morning.”

“Well, you look semi-human, so whatever you did worked out well.” Scott glances at Kate’s arrangement. “You know… I believe yours is the best designed. You should probably help this one,” he motions to Tessa, “out with hers. Her’s looks like a freshman effort.”

Kate grins as Tessa narrows her eyes. “Actually, Tessa did this one. I’m just adding the baby’s breath.”

Tessa smirks in retaliation, causing Scott to roll his eyes. “Well then, since I stuck my foot in my mouth…”

He wanders away for a bit and discussion at the table resumes. One of the bridesmaids asks about him, but Tessa keeps her face carefully blank, shrugging when asked if he’s single. She feels the penetrating gaze of her mother, but is glad she is no longer 14 and easy to flush.

Just as Scott is preparing to leave, he swings back by the table. He's going to get lunch with Shannon and her new boyfriend. Awkward? Yes, But she’s still his friend regardless.

"Alright, I'm taking off. Text me later?" Scott peers into her flower arrangement, actively trying to find something to mock but failing. He can see a small smile on Tessa's face and knows she's about to roll her eyes, which she does. Kate is at the opposite end of the table, assisting the stink-faced bridesmaid with her arrangement, chatting quietly.

"Yes. Also, don't forget to call Mike and mock him for his poor life choices," Tessa replies as she taps his hand when he starts fiddling with a flower.

"What was he thinking? Cheering against the home team?" Scott shakes his head, grinning at her. Before he can say anything further, her brother ducks his head into the door and calls for Scott. "Scott? Can I get a lift back to my place?"

"Yeah, sure!" Scott agrees as he turns quickly to Tessa and by sheer muscle memory, ducks his head and presses a kiss on her lips then turns to go. He doesn't realize what he's done until he catches the look her brother is giving him. Freezing in his tracks, he turns to Tessa who is wearing a look of continued nonchalance. Scott shrugs then turns back to the door, jogging past her brother so he won't get elbow dropped. Yeah, that's going to be a long seven miles back to his house.

Tessa continues tying ribbon around the vases, biting her lip in concentration. She purposefully ignores several looks given her way, continuing on as though nothing happened in the midst of the chaos. At least until her Mom glides back over with determination.

"So… how long has Scott been kissing you goodbye?"

Tessa keeps working a stubborn piece of ribbon that won't lie correctly, trying to will away the flush creeping up her neck. "Uhhhh I'd say about seven weeks now."

"And... is that just another thing you two do now, or is he kissing you because you're dating?"

"Why would it just be a 'thing we do now?'" Tessa finally looks up at Kate who seems mildly amused.

"With you two? Who knows? I mean... did you really think this wasn't going to happen when you let him move in with you? Seriously?"

"No. I really didn't. I think you're forgetting how emphatically he denied ever wanting to be with me last year."

"I didn't, but maybe you have." Kate purses her lips. "So is this a thing now? Can I keep all the stuff from today and hope to recycle it? Obviously we'd personalize it to you but..."

Tessa's eyes grow large. She'd been so focused on her sister that she hadn't even thought about her future wedding. Glancing around, she realizes that yes, she and Jordan have very similar taste and she does like many of the things here.

"Sure, sounds good."

Kate beams then reaches out suddenly and pulls Tessa in for a hug. "You look happy.  Scott looks happy. Are you happy?"

Tessa grins into Kate's neck. "Stupidly so."

"Okay then. That's all I ask," she releases Tessa and returns to her side of the table. "Does your sister know?"

Shaking her head, Tessa replies, "I feel like my relationship status with Scott is one of those things that can wait until after the honeymoon. This weekend should be all about her."

"And her husband."

"Sure, him too." Tessa shrugs, winking at her mom.

.::.

Scott's family is even less surprised than Kate. "Wait, so you weren't lying before when you said you weren't together?" Charlie asks as he unloads some groceries from his truck.

"NO! Seriously you guys!? We just started dating like... seven weeks ago. I can't believe you!"

"Dude, you didn't tell us you were living with her for what... six months? So, no. We didn't believe you." Charlie sets his bags on the counter and turns back to Scott. He reaches out and slugs him in the shoulder, hard. "Well, I guess I have to keep punching you now. You know all mom is going to care about is when you're getting married."

Without even hesitating, Scott replies, "We're thinking about right before her last year. Problem is she has clerkship next summer so... We'll see."

Charlie’s eyebrows dart upward as he pushes a breath through his teeth. “You two are ridiculous. It’s about damn time.”

True enough, Alma cries for a solid thirty minutes, squeezing the life out of Scott.

“Mom, I love you, I really do, but I have to get ready for the wedding.”

“I’m just so proud of you. So happy that you finally figured it out,” she whispers into his neck, soaking his shirt with tears. “Okay, go on. I’ll tell your father. Bring Tessa by for Sunday dinner, okay?”

Scott nods, pressing a kiss on his Mom’s cheek then heading out the door. By the time he arrives at the church, he’s received no less than 27 texts from various family members saying various forms of congratulations and ‘it’s about damn time’. He likes how everyone just assumes they’re getting married. Of course… they will be, but still.

Scott slides into a chair next to his cousin Cara who is looking mighty pleased with herself. Eyes narrowed, Scott elbows her in the arm, curious. “Don’t you look like the cat that ate the canary?”

Cara turns to him and practically bursts forth with, “I need all the details. When did it happen? What happened? Why have you waited so long? When are you getting married? Can I be in the wedding? I mean… you can thank me and Jordan for —“

Shell shocked, Scott stares at her with a dazed expression as the quartet begins to play, prompting the guests to rise. Scott ignores the way Cara covers her mouth with her hand, still giddy over the news. Ridiculous.

Four bridesmaids glide out in tasteful dresses, walking in time with the music. Then Tessa, as Maid of Honor, emerges and Scott forgets to breath for easily thirty seconds. She practically glows as she precedes her sister down the aisle, somehow knowing where he is and winking as she passes.

She takes her place up front and then Jordan emerges and Scott feels a strange sense of fraternal pride at the sheer happiness Jordan exudes. Once upon a time, he may have harbored a bit of a crush on her, much to Tessa’s dismay, but that got sorted out quick enough. The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur because he stares at Tessa the whole time, rolling his eyes when he catches her try to inconspicuously flick away a tear.

The reception has delicious food and an excellent live band and Scott is having a great time. He and Tessa walk over to the giant dessert bar, because of course, Jordan wouldn’t be a Virtue without her love of dessert. While debating over three different choices, Scott receives a knuckle punch in the arm from Jordan who slings her arm around Tessa’s shoulder.

“So I hear you finally manned up and took the plunge with my baby sister, Moir,” Jordan grins. “Congratulations, I’m glad you two finally got your shit together.”

Tessa makes a face as Jordan gives her a sloppy kiss on the cheek, giving another to Scott, but holding him close long enough to threaten a slow and painful death. Rolling her eyes, Tessa shakes her head at her sister then grins up at him sheepishly.

“It’s okay. I’ve been threatened by nearly everyone we know,” Scott nods as Tessa holds up a slice of angel food cake with strawberries. “I can tell you though, except for Jordan, my family has been much more… colorful with their threats.”

“Well that’s because they love me more than they love you,” Tessa smirks at him as he pinches her on the back of the arm. They return to the table and enjoy their dessert, ignoring Cara who keeps trying to get photographic proof that they’re together.  

At one point, Scott loses track of Tessa and scans the room, spotting her talking to Casey with her niece propped on her hip. He notices a ribbon in her tiny sprout of hair and quirks his eyebrows, recalling a vague memory or dream of a little girl with ribbons in her hair. Scott glances over at Kate who’s taking a moment to breathe and enjoy a glass of wine.

“Who put the ribbon in her hair?” Scott nods to Tessa and her niece, now backing onto the dance floor and spinning.

“Tessa. She always puts her hair in ribbons. I’m pretty sure my grandbaby has every color under the sun.”

“Huh,” Scott watches, somewhat thrown. At this point, he doesn’t even know why he’s surprised anymore. He finishes his scotch and Kate finishes her wine, grabbing Jim’s hand when he collects her for a dance. As they pass, Jim stops before Scott.

“I can only give away one daughter tonight, so tomorrow you and I are going to play some golf.”

Excluding the sheer height of the man, Scott’s always been a little intimidated by Tessa’s father, and now finds himself nodding dumbly, replying something semi-coherent. Little does he know, he’ll come out feeling pretty good, with a new member to his weekly poker game at Tom’s.

Once Scott gets his bearings, he looks down to find Tessa’s hand in his as she leads him onto the dance floor. They dance the night away with friends and family. Scott can’t remember the last time he felt so damn happy.

.::.

“Drop it, Meathead!” squawks the damn bird at Scott as he messes with a newspaper. Then the bird turns to Tessa and whistles in a lascivious manner. Tom glances at the pair and rolls his eyes.

“Well, I can’t say I’m all that surprised,” Tom states as he nibbles on a brownie Tessa made. “Actually, but I sure am happy I’m still around to witness it.”

The three of them sit around on his back porch and talk for hours. When Scott collects their glasses and returns inside, he peeks through the blinds at them and catches Tom give Tessa a kiss on the hand, squeezing it tightly. She may or may not flick away a tear; he’s not quite sure.

When he comes back out, Tessa is blushing and Tom has a watery smile, which leaves Scott confused. Til this day, Tessa won’t tell him what they talked about while he was inside.

As they take their leave, Tom pulls them close for a hug and whispers, “I’m proud of you both, for having the courage to go for it, I know it was tough. But you did it. I can’t say I’ve ever met a better matched pair, anytime, anywhere. Just stick together, you two. No matter what. Most important thing I learned when I was married, was to be patient, hear the other person out, and don’t go to bed angry. Ever. 

.::.

“THIS IS IMPERATIVE,” Paul has his hands on Scott’s shoulders, talking to him with the utmost urgency. It’s nearly a month later and Paul is down with Sarah for the weekend. They’ve been doing everything in their power to distract Tessa from getting her work done.

“I can’t believe Paul takes this so seriously,” she watches from the counter as Sarah presses a hand over her mouth to cover up her laughter. 

“What was the exact date you started dating?”

“August 28th,” they both state simultaneously.

Paul pulls out a small black book from his pocket and flips a couple pages, holding his breath. “DAMN YOU.”

“Who won, Baby?” Sarah calls out from her seat at the bar.

“Of all people? Shannon.”

“Wait what?” Scott appears completely confused, Sarah is speechless and Tessa is shaking her head at Scott.

“You didn’t know? About the bet?”

“I thought that was a joke.”

“Scott, do you realize how much money is at stake!?! Holy shit,” Paul slumps out the couch, distraught. “Your EX-GIRLFRIEND, the American, just won eleven thousand dollars.”

“Woah!” Tessa exclaims as Scott’s jaw drops.

“What now? How long has this been going on?” Scott drops on the couch next to Paul, frowning. Tessa remains mildly amused, but not nearly as affected.

“Shoot, eight or nine years? Once Tessa was legal, to be honest,” Paul says as Sarah nods. “I won’t betray any others who may have had thrown in, but I can say many… MANY people have donated over the years.”

“ELEVEN THOUSAND DOLLARS!?”

Tessa grins at Scott who still seems to be processing. “Alright, while Scott creates a mental list of all the people he needs to yell at, who wants to get dinner?”

Later that night as Scott retires to bed with Tessa, he continues to sulk.

“Scott, you really didn’t know about the bet?”

“How’d  _you_  know?”

“I think there was a substantial surge in participants the year we did Carmen,” she replies as she climbs into bed. “I can’t remember who it was, but I heard mention of it a couple times. Apparently they had to clarify whether us having casual sex qualified as ‘getting together’.”

“But we weren’t —“

“Not  _then_ , no,” Tessa turns on her side and blows a minty puff of air over Scott’s face. “Don’t get all bent out of shape. Just ask Shannon to take us out to dinner… Or I don’t know, buy a few goats.”

Scott hunkers down in bed, huffing. “You and your goats…”

.::.

It’s hot. Dusty, hot and the road is just as bumpy as ever.

Scott glances over at Tessa, looking mildly carsick. “Remind me again why you love this country so much?”

“Because I’m here,” Aimée grins as she turns around from the passenger seat. “Welcome to Uganda, Scott. Pearl of Africa. You’re going to have a great time!”

Tessa smiles, knowing Scott is biting back a short-fused reply due to travel fatigue. They’re here for nine days. Long enough to visit friends, and then drive up to Kitgun and officially break ground on the Sister Rosa Mbossa Resource Center. Tessa is so thrilled she can hardly think straight. The school itself will most likely be constructed late summer, assuming all the supplies can be acquired.

The political environment has been much friendlier to NGOs in the past six months, so she is hopeful it will remain. South Sudan is much improved as well, however the guerillas are still cause for concern.

Henri remains quiet up front, focused on the poor driving conditions that have left the road muddy and hard to travel. He gave her a great big hug at the airport before they climbed into the jeep, giving Scott a subtle nod and handshake. That’s about all she expects for most the trip.

Once they arrive at their headquarters and Tessa gets a hearty greeting from Harbuu, Aimée drags them to Tessa’s old room, which Scott finds laughable.

“You spent how long in here?”

“I’d keep my mouth shut, mister. You’re the one sleeping on the floor.”

“Seriously?”

“Considering me and Aimée have broken a couple beds falling asleep together on these things, yes.”

“And why exactly were you falling asleep together?” Scott crosses his arms, grinning.

Before Tessa can reply, she is practically tackled by a leaping boy. And another. She can’t tell if she’s crying or laughing, either way she’s so ridiculously happy to see them. Tuba and Isaiah start talking at 500 kilometers per minute, prompting her to slow them down long enough for introductions.

“Is this your prince!?” Tuba asks immediately, giving Scott and inquisitive look. “I imagined him taller.”

Scott gives her a look as Tessa just shakes her head. “Yep. That’s him.”

Isaiah stands and walks up to Scott, holding out his hand to shake. Scott squats so that he’s eye to eye with Isaiah and instead of receiving a traditional handshake, Isaiah proceeds to teach him a much more intricate version. By the end, Scott has a new best friend and Tessa is knee deep in a tale Tuba is relaying.

When they sleep that night, it is long and deep and restful.  _Thankfully_.

The next couple days are spent visiting old friends, re-introducing Victoria to Scott, who isn’t nearly as shy this time around. Hailey is also present, and Tessa feels like she will truly burst with joy.  They meet another class of students and Tessa gets to show Scott all the work she did the previous summer.

“Seriously Tessa? I’m amazed right now. Completely amazed,” he’s walking around the site of the School she was the project manager on. Tuba is climbing on the playground with Harbuu barking in excitement, while Isaiah walks beside her, holding her hand. “This is so awesome.”

“Just wait until tomorrow, you’ll get to witness a party as only Ugandans can throw. And then? We break ground!”

“And plant trees!” Isaiah jumps up from beside her.

“Right! And plant trees.”

“Can’t wait,” Scott beams at them, then turns as starts chasing Tuba around the playground.

The following night, it’s late but the party is still going strong well past midnight. The music is a bit different than Scott’s used to, but he still tugs Tessa up for a dance. Eventually Aimée and Hailey and others join in, and before long they’re drenched in sweat.

A slower song comes on and Tessa gets a tap on her arm. She turns to find a semi-awake Tuba holding his hand out for a dance. She smiles at him and takes his hand, spinning him around on the dance floor. He glances up at her and gives her a toothless smile as he pushes her into a spin as well.

“Tessa?” Tuba flashes a frown, “even if you marry Scott, can I still keep you?”

“Oh Tuba,” Tessa stops and pulls him to her, feeling his arms wrap around. “You’ll always have me. Always.”

When the song switches, Scott asks Tuba permission to dance with Tessa. “Only if you promise to be a perfect gentleman!”

“Cross my heart.”

Tuba goes to take a seat with his Aunt and cousins, many of whom are napping. As Scott pulls her close, she catches Henri dancing with Victoria off to the side, swaying together more than dancing. She can’t help but grin at the sight.

“What are you smiling at?” Scott asks, pulling away briefly.

“Nothing much. Just that this is nice. I like dancing with you Scott Moir.”

“Good thing. I like dancing with you too.”

“Is that so?” Her head falls to the side, “will you always save me a dance?"

Recalling a similar question from a while back, Scott pulls her hand to his lips and presses a kiss on the inside of her wrist. “I’ll save the first and the last and all the ones in between."

“Forever?” Tessa pulls back, her voice more serious. Scott gazes at her for a moment then gives her the fondest smile in the world, receiving one in kind.

“Forever.”

.::.::.::.

_fin_

.::.::.::. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading. And thanks to all those who always left me messages after you read. I certainly made this feel less stupid. Hope it wasn’t a let down. Yes, I know the formatting is messed up. 
> 
> Sorry about the redundant weddings. Also, I’ll fix errors to morrow. I have to be awake in four hours for work. Oh dear. It’s been a great journey, but I’m glad to end it. Here’s to the future.
> 
> There will be an epilogue, but it’ll be a while from now. After the Niagra show most likely. THANKS.


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